


Harry Lupin Potter and the Scars of the Past

by RoleplayFanfics



Series: Son of a Werewolf - A Harry Potter reimagining [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Capable Adults, Capable Hogwarts teachers, Character Development, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Family Relations, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Severus Snape, Harry Lupin - Freeform, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry Potter Rewrite, How about we don't break timespace, Humor, LGBTQ Themes, LGBTQ+ fiction, More Neville for the people, Not Canon Compliant, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Occasional Remus POV, POV Harry, POV Harry Potter, POV Remus Lupin, Parody, Queer Themes, Remus Lupin raised Harry, Remus Lupin raised Harry Potter, Remus raised Harry, Slytherin Harry Potter, Third of a Series, Werewolf Lore, actions have consequences, changed lore, lore changes, lore revising, major story changes, patronus animal changes, people are actually studying at Hogwarts, queer fiction, revised lore, rewriting harry potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 141,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26156128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoleplayFanfics/pseuds/RoleplayFanfics
Summary: “Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban.”Harry read the words out loud. His features were lit up with understanding as he raised his head to look at his dad, whose eyes had filled with tears upon Harry’s words making the headline real. Remus wasn’t dreaming, he hadn’t misread. Like the text upon a gravestone, signalling the reality of death, Harry’s utterance of the words had made them real. Confirmed their meaning.Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban.---Third book of a series. Harry has been raised with love and care by Remus Lupin, resulting in major changes in the Harry Potter book series.
Relationships: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood
Series: Son of a Werewolf - A Harry Potter reimagining [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854529
Comments: 78
Kudos: 137





	1. Prologue - In which Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban

**Author's Note:**

> ♡♡♡ Thank you all for the comments and kudos on the previous stories. ♡♡♡
> 
> It's no surprise to us that this book has been a lot of fun to write. As adults, we do identify more with and have a bigger interest in the conflicts involving the adults. It also feels like we derive further from the canon for every installment we work on. 
> 
> We are posting the prologue now as evidence that this book is going to be published soon, and for easy access to save or bookmark it. 
> 
> **Important note:**  
>  We have a separate fanfic series called Recipe for Circumstances. Quite a few of our changes to the lore of this work are reminiscent of how we wrote the stories related to Remus, Severus, Sirius, Peter, James and Lily. While certain aspects are similar as we've had similar ideas we want to explore, situations are not guaranteed to have happened the way they did in the Recipe for Circumstances series. **These two fanfic series are not connected.**
> 
> Another note is that it's difficult to decide upon relationship tags. The series isn't focusing on the romances happening within it, they're simply part of the plot, and will most likely happen in later installments, if at all, depending on couple. As of currently we will only post the relationship tags once a relationship is a certainty, rather than being built up. 
> 
> Series order:  
> Harry Lupin Potter and the Path to Self Worth  
> Harry Lupin Potter and the Nature of Evil  
> Harry Lupin Potter and the Scars of the Past  
> More to follow
> 
> \---  
> This work is a reimagining of the Harry Potter series, and is written purely without profit, claiming no ownership of content originating from J.K.Rowling’s book series.
> 
> That being said, this reimagining focuses strongly on the importance of identity and one’s right to their own identity and person. Even more so to be in charge of one’s own identity. The series further explores sound logic, humane approaches and will make changes to the world of Harry Potter in attempts to add logic and reason to concepts which the audience may know differently.
> 
> You may find yourself disagreeing with changes and portrayals of the work, and the characters; if you find that this work is not suitable for your tastes, thank you for checking it out. This work will deviate from the canon, both in past and present story points. No excessive commentary is going to result in changes of the plot-line and character portrayals after audience preferences unless deemed absolutely necessary by the fanfiction authors.
> 
> We hope you find joy and potentially even comfort and reassurance in this work!
> 
> Written by Teddy.  
> Edited and co-written by Nathan.  
> Revised lore by Nathan.
> 
> Do not copy this work onto other pages without proper crediting of the both of us, including our AO3 account.

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

Remus tried to read the letters which so cruelly stated in black and white what his mind could not comprehend to be true. His head was throbbing as he read the words again. 

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

The freshly printed headline continued to soundlessly scream at him as he once more looked upon the cover of _The Daily Prophet_. The world was softly spinning around him.

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

On the front page of the newspaper was his face, the face of the man who Remus had considered his friend. The face of the man he had known as a boy, the face of the man who had taken everything away from him. 

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

His eyes were sunken, his cheeks hollowed, his hair and beard wilder than the werewolf had ever seen them. The madness which had so often peeked through his eyes as a boy was on full display in the eyes of the man. 

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

His features were recognisable as those of the friend Remus had loved, yet twisted by years upon years of suffering. All that had been comforting about Sirius, all that had been the man he knew, had been replaced with the madness which the werewolf had always known was pulsing inside of his former friend like a poison. The madness he had so feared. 

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

“Dad?” Harry’s careful, gentle voice spoke up behind him. “Toast is ready, are you coming?” When the father turned towards his child who was looking at him from the end of the corridor, the boy’s face changed into a slightly worried expression. 

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

Remus couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. The world was starting to blur together as his feelings wrestled within him, fighting, clawing, struggling for an outlet. From the newspaper in his hand, Sirius Black’s cold, hollow eyes stared at him. 

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

“Dad… What’s wrong?” Harry came over to him, carefully reaching out to grab his hand. Remus flinched, pulling the newspaper to his chest as if he could protect Harry from the man who would have been his Godfather by keeping the paper away from the boy. Harry froze before smiling carefully. “It’s alright, it’s just me. What is happening, Dad?” 

_Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban._

With shaking hands and his heart beating forcefully in his chest, the world unfamiliar and frightening around him, the werewolf held the newspaper up for his son to see. 

“Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban.” 

Harry read the words out loud. His features were lit up with understanding as he raised his head to look at his dad, whose eyes had filled with tears upon Harry’s words making the headline real. He wasn’t dreaming, he hadn’t misread. Like the text upon a gravestone, signalling the reality of death, Harry’s utterance of the words had made them real. Confirmed their meaning. 

Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. 


	2. Chapter 1 - In which Remus Lupin confirms his relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think… I think it is time that I tell you about Sirius Black.” The werewolf spoke, looking down upon the silent, staring man underneath _The Daily Prophet_ ’s headline. Like all photographs in the Wizarding World, it moved, yet Black’s picture was oddly still. He stared out at the world, almost unblinking, his eyes reflecting equal parts nothing as they were filled with madness. Both Harry and his dad turned away from the man on the cover. 

Harry Lupin led his dad over to the kitchen table, where Remus sat down heavily upon his chair. He watched his dad as he placed the piece of toast in front of him and sat down opposite of him. His dad was usually very capable, it was not often that Harry needed to take care of him in any way. However, this was one of the times where Remus needed help, and his son was there to offer it. 

The man hid his face against the palms of his hands, his conflicted emotions finding release in the shape of tears. Remus Lupin has always been an emotional person, yet one who had consistently feared to express his own emotions. The need to feel did not disappear just because he had grown older, there was no such thing as adults simply ceasing to feel. However, he had a child to care for, and he often felt as if he was burdening his son with his emotions, even if he was very seldom this emotional. Harry had never felt burdened by his dad’s need to feel, he had only ever felt burdened when he wasn’t capable of helping the man. Still, he was far more often able to help than not.

The boy pushed a box of tissues over to Remus’ side, allowing for easy access to them.

Harry waited until his dad had recovered, keeping an eye on him in case he was needed, but mostly allowed the man to wrestle with his feelings until he managed to calm himself enough to eat. When his dad recovered enough to carefully nibble on his cold piece of toast, Harry offered to reheat the tea for him. 

After having blown his nose, dried his tears and being served a cup of tea, the werewolf apologised to his son. Harry shook his head. “You don’t have to excuse yourself,” he countered. 

The man took a deep breath, looking upon his son with an emotional gaze. Harry couldn’t quite identify all the emotions which he saw reflected in his father’s eyes, but he knew that they were plenty and that they were complicated, even though they were also direct and honest. Harry knew that people’s expressions weren’t quite so easy to read as one might be led to believe. He was only able to read his dad so well because he grew up with him. He could see a lot of fear, regret and worry, and almost got the sense of helplessness from the gaze, as if his dad felt helpless in the situation at hand. 

“I think… I think it is time that I tell you about Sirius Black.” The werewolf spoke, looking down upon the silent, staring man underneath the _The Daily Prophet_ ’s headline. Like all photographs in the Wizarding World, it moved, yet Black’s picture was oddly still. He stared out at the world, almost unblinking, his eyes reflecting equal parts nothing as they were filled with madness. Both Harry and his dad turned away from the man on the cover. 

“I know I have spoken about him before, and I might have been too brief…” Remus’ voice trailed off before he stopped to drink some more tea, composing himself. “If I am repeating myself, please have patience. I think you are old enough to understand now, but if I am overestimating your abilities, do tell me. I want to be as honest as I can but… well… things are more complicated than they may appear.” The werewolf tried to make the disclaimers before he began speaking. “I will try and answer any questions to the best I can.” 

“Are you… sure you want to talk about this now?” Harry carefully inquired. “I don’t mind if you tell me another time.” 

Remus shook his head, although Harry’s question helped replace the frown on his face with a softer expression. “Thank you, but I do believe that I will feel better after I tell you.” 

The werewolf took a deep breath and began telling his story. “When I came to Hogwarts, I was already a werewolf, as you know. I didn’t dare to believe that I would get the letter when I turned eleven, and to actually be there… It was so very unreal. At Hogwarts, I met James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. We were best friends, but like all friend groups, some people in the group had more in common with one another. James and Sirius were best friends. They were equal in almost every way, the both of them were popular and didn’t have to study hard to understand the foundations of magic. Some people would say that they had a natural talent for magic, but I don’t like to use the word talent as you know.” Harry nodded in response. 

“Sirius adored James. He was the happiest when he was by his side. So much so that I always thought that Sirius was in love with James. I know that might sound strange, as you know Sirius as the man who was responsible for your birth parents' deaths. I will explain more about the betrayal, just let me speak of this first.” 

The son of the werewolf nodded, shutting his mouth again as he had just tried to ask about that part. Harry sat back in the chair, making himself comfortable once more as the story continued. 

“He did not have the most mature reaction when James came to date Lily. It seemed to be that he was jealous of her for winning James' heart, while Sirius couldn’t have it.” Remus continued. “But he never held any animosity towards you. He didn’t see you as an enemy or a hindrance or anything of the sort. Lily was worried that he might be too rough or too loud when visiting you, but he was every bit as careful around you as an adult should. James never feared to have Sirius around you, he trusted him with all his heart, and he made Sirius your Godfather.” 

“Sirius Black was my Godfather?” Harry blinked at his dad, interrupting before his dad could continue his story. It was very hard to imagine that he could have ended up with someone other than the man before him. He couldn’t imagine how different his life would be without the guidance and help which he had been given from his dad. 

“Yes. I was your second Godfather after Sirius.” Remus confirmed. 

“But…” The boy’s words got stuck on his tongue, wrestling behind his teeth, making it impossible to voice them. “Why… What happened?” 

“He betrayed them to the Dark Lord.” The werewolf spoke the words as if he had to force them out, struggling equally to his son in expressing himself. The man had another sip of tea before he continued. “There is this charm, called the Fidelius Charm. Is a difficult, multifaceted and potent charm which can be used to conceal a secret inside an individual's soul. The person who houses the secret is known as the Secret Keeper. If our home was made secret, nobody but the Secret Keeper could give a person access to it.” 

Harry nodded as a sour taste filled his mouth alongside realisation. “Do you mean that… Sirius Black was the Secret Keeper of my birth parents’ home?” He felt ill to think of the weight of such a betrayal. To think that Black had been trusted enough to protect the entire Potter family only to reveal that secret to the man who was trying to kill them made Harry’s stomach turn. 

“Yes, yes he was.” Once more, his dad had to force himself to speak the words which cluttered on his tongue. “When I went to bed one night, my friends were alive, when I woke up, the only one left was Sirius, and he was sent to Azkaban before I could get the chance to speak with him. I have not spoken to him for twelve years, yet there are so many questions in my mind, so many things I don’t understand. I-” he stopped himself when he realised that he was close to breaking out into a ramble. 

The werewolf took a deep breath. “Harry, there are some things you must understand about Sirius Black. I don’t want to make demands, but in this case I feel like I have to.” His expression turned serious as he looked into his son’s eyes, his gaze stern and serious. It was not an expression he often showed, it almost looked wrong on his face. 

Harry sat up straighter, nodding in response. His expression turned stern as well, as he prepared to listen closely to the information which his dad was about to share with him. 

“Sirius Black is dangerous. He was already reckless and dangerous back in school, and twelve years in Azkaban has most likely made him all the more dangerous.” Harry had never seen his dad’s face so serious. “Back in school, he played a very cruel prank on Severus. During our sixth year, he…” The man’s serious expression broke into one of pain and betrayal, his scarred face twisting with the agonising memory which time had not been able to heal. Remus realised that his emotions were getting the better of him, thus he stopped talking to try and regain control over himself. When he spoke next, his voice was calmer but the hurt was no less evident in his eyes.“He tricked Severus to the Shrieking Shack on the night of a full moon.”

Harry felt as if his heart had been turned to ice in his chest. It felt as if his heartbeat slowed down, becoming painfully dragged out and rigid. Every beat caused his chest to ache, from his collarbones down to his stomach. It had been one thing hearing that the man had betrayed his birth parents, but to hear that he had used a teenager who was a slave to the condition which had been forced upon him, for the sake of a prank, made him feel like he completely understood the meaning of betrayal. 

The son of a werewolf knew just how much his dad feared and suffered from the blood curse which poisoned his veins. He knew the extent of suffering which it had brought him and he knew that Remus feared few things more than to have his condition exposed. The boy might have disliked Black for what he had done to his birth parents, but he loathed him for what he had tried to do to his dad and Professor Snape. 

Harry took a deep, shaking breath as he tried to ease the fuming yet ice cold flames of loathing which scalded and chilled his insides. “That monster.” He whispered, unable to find stronger words. “What happened then? Was Professor Snape alright afterwards? What about you? Did he see you?” As he started asking questions, he found himself unable to stop, the words flowing from his lips without pause. 

Remus licked his lips, taking a deep breath himself before he answered in a much calmer voice. “Severus did see me. I was terrified when I learnt what had happened. However, when I approached him to beg that he did not tell anyone, he… uhm…” The werewolf’s words failed him once more, but instead of pain, there were signs of relief and even happiness in his eyes. His expression turned softer, as he brought his hand up to fumble with his own collar, his cheeks heating slightly. The scars which had seemed so harsh and prominent when he was upset now seemed almost nonexistent, which was how Harry usually saw them. 

Harry felt how the complex knot of fire and ice eased inside his chest, how the expression of appreciation and happiness on his dad’s face eased his own pain simply by existing. He found himself smiling, leaning forward. “What happened then dad, what did he do?” Harry urged the man.

“Oh, uhm… yes.” The werewolf laughed nervously, yet his expression was still happy. “He was very kind to me, despite being distant. He made me realise a lot of things about my own self worth and the people I was defending despite their faults. The truth is that, well… James and Sirius were bullies. They teased and hurt other people, mostly targeting Severus or lone Slytherin students.” Remus’ expression was no longer happy, but he didn’t seem to be suffering as much from what he was speaking of. 

“Peter would join them in their bullying, and I would stand to the side and do nothing. If I had been more secure in myself, if I had not been convinced that they were the only friends I could ever get, maybe I could have stopped them. Yet, I was terrified to make myself a target, so I remained an accomplice in not making them stop. I was fascinated by Severus, who did not use my secret to get revenge on James and Sirius, as Sirius had used it to try and get to him. I began spending more time around him and, well… One day he started asking me about my condition. He wanted to try and create a potion to help combat the disease.” 

Harry’s eyes lit up, he almost slammed his hands against the table with excitement as he spoke. “Dad! You mean to tell me that Professor Snape created the Lycanthropy potion with your help? For your sake?” He felt a rush of happiness at the thought that the Head of his House had been such a great friend to his dad, who seemed in desperate need for better friends than the bullies who were Potter and Black. 

“Maybe not for my sake but-” Remus began. 

“Daaaad!” his son interrupted, looking at his dad with expectant eyes. 

The werewolf’s cheeks turned red once more and he licked his lips. “Alright, alright, for a short while… Me and Severus might have… b-been… dating.” He confessed.

Harry cheered loudly, unable to hold his emotions back. “I knew it! Or I didn’t know it, but I thought that maybe… Dad, that is so great, see, people do want to date you despite your condition!” He beamed at his dad, who chuckled with embarrassment, trying to wave his son’s words away. 

“Harry, please. We were sixteen. It is not like we are still in love or anything as such.” He shook his head. “As it is now, I’d really like to just be his friend. We haven’t talked since back then, we had quite the fall out with one another and… well…” The man shrugged, looking away from his son with a longing look. “I’d be happy if we could just be friends. I’d be more than happy if we could just talk to one another.” 

His son was grinning at him still. It was not that he was expecting his dad to still have the exact same feelings for the Potions Master. Like Harry’s best friend Draco Malfoy had pointed out last year, the werewolf seemed to still harbour positive feelings towards their Potions teacher. However, unlike Malfoy, Harry believed that those feelings were of generally positive nature and not necessarily only something like unrequited love. 

It had been quite some time since Remus and Professor Snape were sixteen, the idea that they would still be in love after all these years was frankly silly. Love was not as inflexible and steady as that. Such feelings often came down to a misconception of longing for what could have been, rather than enduring, passionate love. Inability to move on wasn’t love, it was unhealthy. However, dreaming of what could have been was only unhealthy if it hurt someone else or became an obsession. If there was anything between his dad and Severus Snape as adults, it was not because of enduring emotions, but because they as the individuals they had become decided that there could still be something between them.

“I’m sure you will be able to talk with him plenty, as he is covering for the classes which you can’t hold personally.” The boy grinned at his father. He had not forgotten about Sirius Black, but it felt wonderful to have confirmed that someone had liked his dad enough to be his partner. Even if it had been briefly, it was still evidence that someone could and wanted to date him, despite knowing about the werewolf’s condition. 

“Oh, Harry, please. It was brief and it didn’t last. I don’t want anyone else to know about this. It would be very inconvenient for Severus and me both if rumors started to float around Hogwarts about our involvement.” The man hastily scolded his son. “We are both professional adults and do not need some far fetched romantic story to complicate our workspace.” 

Harry grinned. “Of course. I will not tell anyone or spread any rumors.” 

His dad sighed, hiding his face behind his large hand as he shook his head. Their discussion had brought them off topic, but it had also given the werewolf the strength to speak of what he felt the need to make his son aware of. 

“Harry, there is a strong possibility that Sirius might be coming for you.” Remus returned to speaking of the escaped prisoner. “He was, well, unhinged before going to Azkaban. Twelve years of torment from the Dementors of Azkaban does not do any favors for the mind. Sirius could be insane, I don’t want to make any claims to what he might think or do, but I fear that he might try and seek you out. He knows Hogwarts well, he knows many secret paths, the castle isn’t safe from him.” It hurt Remus to say, but he wanted to be honest with his son so as to not encourage any misbehavior. “I don’t want you to leave your common room after curfew, I never want you to do that, but it is especially important this year. Stay with your friends, remain in larger groups and don’t leave the Hogwarts grounds.” 

Harry nodded. “I will be careful.” He promised. “Is there anything else I should know about him?” 

His dad hesitated for a few seconds. “Yes… Yes there is. Sirius Black is an unregistered animagus. He takes the shape of a big, black dog. Him, James and Peter became animagi as to be able to accompany me during my transformations, as a werewolf is only dangerous to humans and not animals.” 

“They were animagi? As teenagers?” Harry’s voice was full of disbelief as he looked at his dad for confirmation. Upon Remus nodding, he continued. “I guess I see what you mean with that some people would call them magically gifted… That is very impressive," he mumbled. 

The werewolf nodded. “James was a stag, Peter was a rat.” He summarised, very matter of factly. “The bigger animals were able to keep me in check. I even remember some of those nights as their presence calmed the beast enough that I can recall some of its memories. It was before the Lycanthropy potion was created, and it was my greatest comfort at the time. I felt so very humbled and happy to have friends who did not only refuse to abandon me upon learning of my condition, but worked to stay with me during those nights. That was of course before Sirius… Well…” He trailed off, unable to speak of the betrayal once more. 

Remus continued, “I don’t want the public to know about Sirius being an animagus.” He avoided his son’s eyes as he spoke up again, looking as if what he was saying was wrong or faulty. “At this point, the knowledge of his transformation might lead to mass paranoia and the murder of innocent animals. There are already plenty of dogs out there who might be mistaken for him. I will speak to Professor Dumbledore when school begins to discuss what might be done about it, but I would truly like it if you only shared this information with your closest friends who might spot him if he tries to approach you.” 

“So I should tell Malfoy, Hermione and Neville about him being an animagus and not anyone else?” Harry frowned. He did understand why his dad was reasoning as he did, but it was still a little hard to agree with his logic. The benefits from exposing the man’s other shape seemed far worth it than to keep Black’s secret. 

“If you could keep it to them, I would be very thankful.” Remus agreed. “Since you are going to visit young Malfoy soon, I was hoping to be able to speak to his mother about Sirius. She is a relative of the man, whether her family likes to pretend otherwise or not. Seeing Sirius’ hate for his family, Malfoy might be in danger if you both are approached by him. I need to speak with her for the sake of how to keep the two of you safe. You are quite inseparable at this point, I’d much rather try to keep you both safe rather than force you apart unsuccessfully.” He chuckled softly, leaning his head to the side, very clearly happy that his son had such a close friend whom he valued so much and who valued him equally. 

“We’ll fight for our right to be friends.” Harry agreed, he was saying it in a joking manner, but he wasn’t making light of their relationship as friends. 

“Nothing makes me happier.” Remus assured him. “I have one last request, if you don’t mind?” He continued, once more looking a little more serious. 

“Yes?” Harry gathered himself, prepared for another hard but fair request. 

“I’d like to move your bed into my room, or the other way around. I want us to sleep in the same room so that if Sirius would happen to somehow find his way here, he will not find you alone.” The man’s request was earnest and simple. 

His son nodded, rather relieved that the inquiry was such a simple, reasonable one. “I don’t mind at all, I’m used to sleeping in a dormitory so it won’t be any problem at all.” 

His father smiled at him, relieved that his son agreed to his proposal of moving the beds. “Good. If I snore, do throw a pillow at me, that tends to make me stop.” He chuckled. 

“If you snore?” Harry teased him, causing the man to roll his eyes and smile at his son. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **The Fidelius Charm**  
>  It is probably worth to mention this from the beginning, even if it won't be fully relevant until later. This charm has led to a row of plot holes in the canon and it is very hard to figure out how to handle it. Thus, this is how the charm works as following in our canon: 
> 
> The charm itself is only a charm to conceal a secret. It requires everyone aware of a specific piece of information to be present, and works to make the other people present unable to speak the information ever, while only the Secret Keeper can speak the information if done willingly. Like some other more powerful enchantments in our canon, it's a complicated ritual, and not just a spell to cast. 
> 
> The ritual and magic to conceal something such as a place and house is a completely separate form of magic. This ritual ward can later be broken, and once it is broken the place is no longer concealed. This is why the Potters' household is no longer concealed and why it was not concealed once Voldemort's Death Eaters had successfully broken the protective charm around it.
> 
> Regarding Remus' relationship to what happened to the Potters we imagine it to have played out like this:  
> He used to know where they lived, but as the war got worse they wanted to protect their child.  
> The Potters moved to a secret location, and the intention was for only Lily, James and Sirius to know the secret and have the Fidelius Charm affect them. If you're wondering why it as cast with only the three of them present, the charm in question still prevents the secret to be stolen by the means of magic, and there are plenty of means of magic to attempt. Sirius involvement was also to make certain that there still was a connection to the outside world in case they would need to seek help from the Order of the Phoenix. At this point, Remus and other friends of the family knew they went into hiding, but didn't get to know where they moved. When the information about their death reached him, so did the location to which he went. 
> 
> Lastly, it's important to make a note about human will. The Wizarding World has a tendency to trust everything to magic, and it is true that there is no _known_ way to magically extract the information from the Secret Keeper. However, this is not an absolute spell to keep the information. This leads to the conclusion that such as torture, excruciating pain and breaking the human mind, aka actions leading to a person choosing to give away the information to save themselves, are not stopped by the Fidelius Charm.


	3. Chapter 2 - In which Malfoy Manor is visited by a Pureblood, a Muggle-born, a Half-blood and a werewolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have I ever lied to you?” Harry grinned back, moving in to push his shoulder against his friend’s. 
> 
> “I’m sure you have, but I can’t recall any at the top of my head.” The blonde pushed back in a friendly manner. 

Harry, Hermione and Neville all met up at King’s Cross station.

Remus was coming with them, as he had stated that he would. He had also had a phone conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Granger, who were more comfortable to entrust their child with a stranger after having spoken to him. Not to mention that the man was a teacher at their child’s school, which made him even more trustworthy in their eyes. The whole scenario helped Hermione to be allowed to come as well, seeing that it would be far more complex to have the Pureblood family deal with two Muggle parents.

It was clear that the two Muggles were somewhat uncomfortable around Remus, trying hard to not be judgmental about his scarred appearance but failing somewhat. Mrs. Granger was far more polite, but Mr. Granger stared when he thought that the werewolf wasn’t looking. Nonetheless, they did entrust the man with the three children based on his merits. The two Muggles looked somewhat uncomfortable with Harry hugging Hermione as well, as if they didn’t expect a boy to want to hug. 

Neville’s grandmother had no issues whatsoever with leaving her grandchild in Remus’ care, as she had already met him once, as well as trusted in his merits. It didn’t take Remus and the children long to be off, travelling towards Wiltshire. 

On the way there, Harry complimented Hermione’s hair. It had grown quite some since they last saw her, and was now reaching down to her collarbones. She was clearly happy to have her hair complimented. Further, her face had become slightly longer since he saw her last, her voice having turned a little darker as she had grown older. 

Neville had grown taller, his round, boyish face had started to become less that of a child’s and more of a teenager’s. His hair was still kept at a short, manageable length, but it suited his older face more than it did the boy’s. 

Harry didn’t feel like he had changed much, he had cut his hair, but only a little. It wasn't until when he stood next to Neville at the station, he realised that he might have grown a little taller, although not much in comparison to the other boy. To his relief, he was at least taller than Hermione. Not that he would have hated to have her outgrow him, but it felt a little good to not be the shortest in the group. 

Malfoy had given them all written instructions on how to dress when they visited his home so as to not embarrass themselves in his more than a little fancy household. It was not that he was ashamed over them, but one did not simply visit Malfoy Manor looking shabby. It would be embarrassing for everyone. The instructions were surprisingly simple: try to wear an outfit where the colors did not clash horribly, and to not have hair hanging down in their faces. Hermione had used her moth pins to remove her hair from her face, while Harry had tried to style his bangs to the side with water but he could already feel them curling back up and away from his face. If he looked too uncontrolled when arriving, he would ask Malfoy himself for help. Neville looked the same as always, as he was already perfectly presentable in the terms of Malfoy’s stated preferences. 

Further, they had received, albeit minimal, instructions of specific manners which would be expected of them. It was mostly for when they were greeted, and it was a relief for both Harry and Hermione to get some manner of instructions instead of being expected to behave in ways which they weren’t used to. 

The group arrived at the little station and got off the train. Although everyone had only packed their bags with enough necessary items to be comfortable for the night which they were staying, it was still slightly messy to get off. Neville thought it was quite frightening to imagine not having time to get off before the train started to move again, as was not used to any other train that the Hogwarts Express. Still, everything went well and they managed to exit without any trouble. 

Remus led the three children towards the edge of the platform, where they were met by an elegant carriage in black, the kind which was far too old to be commonly used for transportation in the current age. In front of the carriage stood two jet black horses which reminded Harry of thestrals, only that these actually looked like healthy and live equines, rather than starved corpses of horses. The driver was a woman of no particular note, she looked stern and serious but her features were not harsh or sharp. She was dressed in dark clothes to match the carriage, her face shaded by a wide, black hat. 

The door to the carriage opened and Draco Malfoy stepped out. He was dressed in black, clearly tailored, clothing, complete with a tie which looked to be made out of black snake skin. Harry didn’t think that it was, but that was what it reminded him of. He wore a silvery handkerchief in his right breast pocket to match with his beloved silver snake cufflinks. Unlike he had during their previous years knowing one another, he was no longer wearing his hair combed back, but had instead allowed his bangs to fall over his forehead instead. He had grown taller too, looking more mature than Harry remembered. 

“Welcome, did you expect me to not come and get you?” He smiled, making Harry decide to hurry over and collide with him in a hug. It was perhaps a little more colliding than the son of a werewolf had planned, as he tripped on the stairs on the way down. “Omph!” Malfoy groaned. 

“Sorry.” Harry excused himself with a laugh. “You’ve grown taller.” 

“I know.” He sounded proud over himself as he moved to hug Hermione and greet Neville as well as Remus. Malfoy seemed somewhat disappointed to learn that Neville had grown too, and that the Gryffindor boy was in fact taller than him now. “Was the trip pleasant?” He showed towards the carriage as he spoke. “Since you are travelling so light, you can keep your items inside, normally, we would tie them to the top but that’s not necessary for you.” 

“Did you know that most trains stop at a lot of different stations and not just one?” Neville addressed his fellow Pureblood wizard, who he suspected to be as clueless as him when it came to Muggle transportation. 

“Truly?” The blonde wizard frowned. 

“Indeed they do. I don’t know of many trains who take the direct route and don't stop anywhere else.” Hermione was the first to enter the carriage. “Other than the Hogwarts Express, of course.” 

Harry followed her, sitting down by her side. The carriage was clad in expensive looking green velvet on the inside. It was more spacious than Harry had suspected, he felt like he very much should have expected it, but had neglected to. Remus carefully entered and moved himself into a corner to try and hide away. Neville sat down next to him while Malfoy took the seat next to Harry. He crossed his legs and kept his back straight as he sat, looking very much like a person posing for their picture to be taken. 

The door shut behind them and the carriage rolled off. Hermione quickly came to look out the window, admiring the scenery. 

“Thank you for coming to meet us, Malfoy.” Remus spoke to the boy, who puffed his chest out upon being addressed. 

“You are most welcome Mr. Lupin. You are my first guests here, except for Crabbe and Goyle, but they mostly arrive with their family. I am most excited to have you all here.” 

“I missed you too.” Harry pushed him with his elbow, earning a grin and a push back. 

“As did I you. Have you picked your extra curricular subjects yet?” Malfoy looked around at the people gathered. Seeing how quickly he changed subject, he was probably rather eager to discuss the subject at hand. 

“Oh, I picked Care of Magical Creatures and Divination.” Neville spoke up first. “I didn’t really know what I wanted, and I’m not expecting to be all that good at any of them. They just sounded the easiest.” He looked a little ashamed as he said that he had picked the subjects which seemed to require the least effort on his part. 

“That is a very good choice.” Remus smiled at the boy. “If you already find yourself burdened by school, it is a very clever idea to pick something which won’t overexert you with its complexity.” 

Neville’s expression turned happier as he was praised. “Really? It is alright to do that?” 

“Of course. You will have plenty of learning from other subjects, no harm will come from subjects which seem easier for you to learn than to stress yourself out with complicated ones which you didn’t want in the first place.” The Professor assured him. 

“I also picked Care for Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes.” Harry spoke next. 

“Do you think you will learn about werewolves in Care for Magical Creatures?” Malfoy teased his friend, unaware of a werewolf’s presence in his family carriage. 

“They aren’t magical creatures, you insensitive prick.” The son of a werewolf gave his friend a displeased look. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Malfoy laughed the discomfort away. “I humbly apologise to all werewolves present.” The blonde wizard continued, causing both Remus and Neville to chuckle nervously. 

They were all saved by Hermione. “I picked all five extra subjects. I want to learn as much as I can and they all just sounded so interesting. Especially Ancient Runes.” 

“Oh good, I was worried it would be me and nobody else in that class.” Harry turned towards her, eager to make his dad less uncomfortable. Remus seemed a little doubtful about the girl’s decision but as the children continued to speak, he remained silent. 

She seemed to have answered what Malfoy wanted her to answer, for he quickly forgot all about werewolves and leaned over to speak with her. “Excellent. I am considering picking Muggle Studies, and I will only do so if you take it with me.” 

The carriage turned silent for a few seconds, everyone looking at the former Pureblood elitist who seemed embarrassed by the sudden attention. He straightened up as his cheeks turned slightly red, his fingers playing with his cufflinks in a manner which revealed how nervous he actually was. At least the habit was better than the nervous one which had caused him to damage his fingers last year. 

“I told you last year that I wanted to know more about Muggles. It is not as if I have an overwhelming interest in them, but I am interested in how our history differs and what has been recorded. I’m not there to learn about… about… mundane Muggle things.” He finished by waving his hand, dismissing the idea of them thinking that he was interested in Muggles as a whole. Nobody thought that he was. “Either way, I do not trust that mages record and communicate things correctly, thus I need Granger to be certain of what they say is correct.” 

The girl smiled at him, leaning her head to the side. “I didn’t think you’d come to rely on me so much…” 

“Well, who else can be trusted with it?” The blonde wizard huffed. 

“You do know that nobody is making fun of you, right?” Harry carefully asked his best friend. “You’re allowed to want what you want and you don’t need to defend yourself for wanting it.” 

Malfoy halted himself before he answered. His face slowly softened with a smile as he played with the cufflinks. “Of course I know that.” 

“Oh…!” Hermione’s surprised gasp interrupted the conversation. She was looking out the window again, and had spotted the mansion coming into view. Even more than that, she had spotted the wandering peacocks. “I can see Malfoy Manor, that is… a lot of windows… How elegant!” 

Harry hurried over to her, leaning over to see the manor as well, the two of them clamored to see the house while Malfoy chuckled. “Calm down, we’re almost there.”

The carriage soon came to a halt, allowing the group to exit. The door opened without anyone touching it, allowing Malfoy to exit first, followed by Harry, Hermione, Neville and finally Remus. Harry looked up at the manor and was struck by just how large it was. The facade was more glass and window than it was brick, making for quite the expensive display. Behind them and all around them, the gardens stretched almost endlessly. The grass and hedges were so green and taken care of that they almost seemed unnatural in their emerald hue. Directly behind them was a beautiful fountain, its waters shimmering in the sunlight. 

On the stairs to the Malfoy Manor stood Narcissa Malfoy, waiting for them in the shade of her own home. She was dressed in somewhat brighter green colors with hints of gold and yellow, brighter than Harry had ever seen her in. Her visible clothing pieces consisting of a jacket and a long skirt which reached to around her calves. There were probably several more layers underneath, judging by the type of fashion. Her shoes were black and expensive, although simple in design. They were likely made for comfort and function, rather than to be eye-catching. She wore her hair gathered in upright pin curls. “Welcome.” Her thin lips were painted a dark red. 

“Thank you for having us.” The children all responded as one, as if they had rehearsed it, while Remus bowed awkwardly in greeting her. 

“I’m sorry for it taking me so long, but I have been wanting to thank you for the very nice Holiday you gave us last year.” Harry recalled that he hadn’t had the time to thank her yet, quickly doing that before forgetting. 

The woman nodded approvingly at his words, and at their greeting. “You are most welcome to our home.” She showed towards the building, causing her son to move towards it while showing for his friends to follow. 

With hesitant steps, the group moved forward with Remus following behind. While the man stopped on the top of the stairs to greet the Madam of the house, the children entered. They all found themselves completely stunned by the view of the inside. 

The mansion was grand to say the least, but the inside was far more impressive than the outside. Before them was a grand entrance hall, the light from the windows made it well lit and easy to see all the details in the hall. Upon entering, they passed a few marble pillars, holding what seemed to be a second floor balcony. There was a magnificent carpet covering the stone floor underneath their feet. The walls of the entrance hall displayed some sort of woven tapestry of decorated nature, filled with magical fauna. That was to say, the upper half of the walls, as the lower half was shiny, polished and elaborately carved wooden panels. It was grand, open and everything seemed decorated into the slightest detail. There was a fireplace to the right side, one carved out of white marble as well, and right above it there was a stone panel the family crest elaborately carved into the stonework. At the far end of the large hall were more large windows, but also a wall panel with a large portrait of the current Malfoy family, that was to say, Draco Malfoy and his parents. Unlike what Harry had expected, it was a bright home, with pale, light colors and darker wood parts, rather than just black. The ceiling was even white. 

“It’s beautiful.” Hermione sighed with a dreaming look in her eyes, she looked around, trying hard not to twist and turn in an undignified manner. “It’s Elizabethan, isn’t it?” She turned towards her young host who looked rather unsure of what she had just asked. 

“Indeed.” Narcissa Malfoy entered behind them, the doors closing as soon as the Madam and her company had entered. She pulled her wand out from somewhere within her skirt and motioned towards their shoes, magically cleaning them before allowing the children to enter her home. “It was built to fit the tastes of the time, I’m impressed you know of it.” She nodded towards Hermione in approval. 

“Then it was built somewhere by the end of the 16th century, perhaps?” The girl politely asked. 

“Built between 1590 and 1597.” The woman nodded. “Excellent deduction, are you very experienced in Muggle architecture?” She asked the girl, looking down upon her as she did. 

Next to Harry, Malfoy grew slightly uncomfortable, but his friend did not let him down. 

“Not too experienced, Madam.” She avoided to explain more, keeping to herself that she knew these things because of her parents' interests. 

“May I show my friends around now, mother?” Narcissa Malfoy’s son carefully addressed her. He would rather not be stuck in the entrance hall all day while his mother asked rather high stakes questions which might lead her to figure out that Hermione was Muggle-born. It was a detail which the former Pureblood supremacist has conveniently forgotten to mention to his family altogether. 

The woman nodded. “Why of course. Do show them around.” She dismissed them with an elegant wave of her hand. Behind her, Remus has cast the same spell to clean his shoes and was trying to discreetly check that they were indeed clean. “No running, of course.” She added after a short pause. 

“Of course not.” Her son smiled at her before leading his friends further inside his home. “This way.” 

Malfoy started guiding them through his household. Or rather, he was about to take them to the stairways to the second floor, when he suddenly turned, his eyes meeting with Hermione’s gaze once before he changed directions, actually deciding to show them the servants quarters and first floor properly. He concluded that his friends were more likely than not interested in every part of the estate, and not just the parts he himself mostly spent time in. 

Hence, they went to the left side of the first floor first, the one containing the kitchen, storage, pantry and servant quarters. It was quickly proved that the household was not as silent as desolate as it had looked upon seeing the large building from the outside, as dinner was currently being prepared in the kitchen. Further, there were staff consisting of humans, who Malfoy explained to be mages hired by the estate as servant folk for cooking, tending to the horses and the lands. Hermione asked about House Elves, whereas Malfoy gave a quick explanation that they did find another one after Dobby, who handled cleaning and similar duties, but that a singular elf could not possibly attend to such an estate as the Malfoy Manor all alone. Even several would be problematic as horses didn’t tend to enjoy their nervous manners and the House Elves were a little too small for certain tasks. In general House Elves were a status symbol rather than the most efficient workforce, but could be the only servant in smaller households.

On the opposite side of the first floor was a nursery and playroom, as well as more rooms which mostly seemed to relate to work and archives, storage for artifacts and magical objects. Harry and Hermione were both more than a little impressed and interested, but Malfoy pointed out explicitly that they were just allowed a peek inside as the objects in question should not be handled carelessly. Honestly, Harry didn’t doubt that after the whole diary incident, but it was so hard to not be interested in such a collection. 

Malfoy took the time to mention that his father was away for the weekend and that none of the children would run into the man, which was a relief to Harry. The son of a werewolf suspected that Malfoy had made certain to plan this whole visit around his father not being home.

Malfoy led them up the main stairway and showed them the right side of the second floor. It contained mostly guest rooms. He took a moment to show off the slightly larger guest chamber in which the two Lupins were meant to stay, as well as the two smaller chambers which had been assigned to Neville and Hermione respectively. All three of the rooms were quite so close to one another, almost door to door, with the exception of Hermione’s room which was a little further away to allow the girl some privacy. 

He continued to lead them towards the left side of the second floor, which had them passing on the very marble balcony which had been above their heads upon entering. There were a few family portraits along the wall, in between the windows. On the wall there was also a skull which resembled a dragon's, proudly displayed, only it wasn’t far much bigger than the head of a horse. For a moment, Hermione seemed to think it was actually the skull of a dragon. Malfoy explained to the Muggle-born girl who had never seen a real dragon that it was simply the skull of a wyvern creature, and not an actual dragon, since their skulls would be far larger.

Past the balcony pathway was a side containing the dining hall, where they would receive most of their meals. It also contained various decorated sitting rooms, which Malfoy explained were for various purposes and occasions, but that it didn’t quite matter when they were there. Such rules were for formal events hosted by the household.  
  
However, there was a room to the side which caught Hermione’s attention. It had painted glass windows rather than walls, and the inside looked familiar to her. Malfoy opened the door to reveal a Christian chapel, one which he explained his mother had kept for the sake of its historical value. Its accuracy to all the Muggle literature and tales she read where Muggles prayed to their God made her want to keep it as it was. It seemed a little curious to the Muggle-born girl, but in reality it was mostly a fun gimmick to the Malfoy family. Having the chapel beautifully decorated in what Hermione understood to be a rich Catholic manner was simply amusing to them, nothing more. 

The young Master of the house brought them up a smaller set of staircases on the same side of the building, which brought them to a corridor with two large chambers. Malfoy explained that this was his family’s own personal quarters. Thus, he did not let the children into his parents bedroom, but moved them to his own room. It was larger than the guest rooms, and the bed was unlike anything Harry had seen. It was a decorated green velvet bed with a canopy covered in beautiful silver embroideries on the green fabric. It looked positively royal. Once more, Hermione commented on the era which led to a small discussion about it between her and Malfoy as the boy led them out of his chamber, pointing out that they could spend time there later if they desired. Before exiting the room, Harry noticed that there was a very large glass container in the corner, one filled with fauna. It seemed to be a terrarium for Missy, and he very much wanted to later have a chance to greet his snake friend later.  
  
They were brought back through the corridor and past large and decorated wooden doors leading them into a long hallway. It seemed to consist of mostly half of the entirety of the building’s third floor. On one side there were more windows almost covering the entirety of the wall, showing the gardens and seemingly endless fields from the high vantage point. On the other wall were family paintings and statues of the Malfoy lineage, along the entirety of the hall.  
  
At last, they came across another set of decorated doors, where Malfoy stopped and grinned at them before he pulled them open to reveal a grand library. Harry would have been overwhelmed by the number of books it held, had there not been immediate movement by the already lit fireplace, and two dogs came sprinting towards them, seemingly very excited to see the people. Books were great and all, but dogs were far more of a priority. The two dogs were slim, pale and long. Harry didn’t know what breed they were but they were clearly built for speed, judging by their quick, elegant stride. They resembled Lucius Malfoy a lot with their longer, blonde fur. 

“You never said that you had dogs!” Hermione stepped back behind Neville, who looked equally excited as Harry to meet the canines. 

Harry sat down on one knee, allowing the dogs to smell and circle him. They decided that he was safe and continued on to the two Gryffindors. Hermione closed her eyes as they sniffed her, which caused them to quickly lose interest and move back to their owner. Malfoy patted them both as Harry carefully stroked over the back of one of them. 

“I thought I had mentioned that?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow at her, to which both she and Neville shook their heads. “Oh. They don’t bark and they don’t bite, the worst they will do is lick you or walk away, depending on who you are.” 

“Aren’t you pretty? Do you like this spot? Good girl.” Harry cooed towards the one who he was petting. She had backed towards him, allowing him to scratch her. 

“What breed are they?” Neville asked, holding his hand out to let the one Harry wasn’t scratching smell him. 

“Borzoi, it’s a Russian hunting dog.” Malfoy smiled. “These two are more for company than hunting, father isn’t interested in such outdoors activities. They are more beautiful than they are clever, and more excited to run than they are to hunt.” He chuckled as one of them pushed its head against him, earning some head scratches from the semi owner. 

“What are their names?” Neville asked, having knelt down to carefully pet one. 

“Louis and Lestat.” Malfoy responded, “they are both girls by the way. Or I guess I should say ladies. Mother named them after a book series which she enjoys.” 

“Are you sure that they won’t bite..?” Hermione carefully looked them over. 

“They won’t bite. They can feel that you are nervous, so they might not want to be around you, but they aren’t going to hurt you.” The blonde wizard shrugged. 

The girl hesitated but then reached her hand out towards one of the dogs, who carefully sniffed her before deciding that she wasn’t interesting enough to pay more attention to her. Hermione seemed satisfied with this, opting to instead explore the library as Harry and Neville cuddled the dogs. 

The library was impressive, it was old, carrying books which not even Hogwarts possessed. The bookshelves reached all the way to the ceiling. To reach the books, one would have to climb the sliding ladders. It was clear upon looking at the various volumes that this collection had not been gathered over one lifetime, but many. There were some books hidden away by protective glass, placed away in corners where the cruel bite of the sunlight couldn’t reach their frail pages. 

“Oh Malfoy, this library is wonderful. I can only imagine what ancient knowledge one could learn from these texts.” The Muggle-born girl smiled at her friend as she allowed her hungry eyes to chase the titles of the books closest to her as she walked down the tall bookcases. 

“I’d imagine there are plenty of lies in them.” The boy looked up at the volumes upon volumes, his expression one which resembled pride but there was something else in his gaze. A look of silent acceptance and betrayal. 

“All the more important to read them.” Harry detangled himself from one of the dogs, standing up after having cuddled her on the floor. “So that you can identify the lies and point out the truth instead.”

Malfoy smiled at him, as Harry smiled back. “You’re covered in dog hair,” Malfoy stated.

“At least I’m not wearing black, that would have shown it.” The son of a werewolf retorted with a chuckle. 

The blonde wizard rolled his eyes. “That really does conclude the tour though.” He looked around at his friends. “Usually when Crabbe and Goyle come over, we play Quidditch in the garden. I am not sure what you people would like to do, so I thought I’d straight up ask.” He looked over at the decorated, beautiful clock upon the wall above the door. “Dinner won’t be served until at least two hours, we should avoid getting sweaty until then, maybe play afterwards.” 

It was clear that Hermione wanted nothing more than to remain in the library and read for the rest of her stay. However, that wasn’t really reasonable, and she knew it well. 

“How about we give our presents to Harry while we wait for dinner?” Neville suggested, looking excited over the prospect of present exchange. 

“What do you mean by my presents?” Harry grinned at him. “We got you presents too.” 

“You did?” Neville looked at his friends in surprise, blinking before turning red. “You didn’t have to… I,,, uhm…”

“It’s rather convenient that you almost share birthdays, it’s easier to remember when they're this close.” Malfoy nodded approvingly. 

“I hope it didn’t sound like I wanted to open my presents or anything… uhm…” The Gryffindor boy nervously shifted his weight. 

“Of course not.” Hermione assured him. “You didn’t even know we had presents for you.” Her words seemed to reassure him, causing him to smile. 

“So back to my room then.” Malfoy began walking, and his friends picked up the pace so as to not lose track of him. Hermione turned towards the library one last time as Harry turned one last time to wave to the dogs. They didn’t look at him as they were moving towards their place in front of the fireplace. 

Malfoy’s room felt even grander when they returned the second time. The room was large, and the bed was just as impressive as before. On the walls were a few framed Quidditch players and Slytherin motives, but the walls were mostly left bare as to not damage the elaborate tapestry which covered them. In one corner was Missy the snake’s terrarium, and in another a large wardrobe which felt larger than Harry’s whole room. He wasn’t convinced that it actually was, but it felt like it. There was also a writing desk, a big one is mahogany, which was so clean that it seemed unused. It had a few books on it, and a few photographs on the wall above it, so that the person sitting by the desk could look at them.

“Can I test your bed?” Harry turned towards his friend with large, excited eyes. “It’s almost my birthday, after all.” He grinned. 

Malfoy snorted in return. “You’ve slept in my bed plenty of times at Hogwarts without that excuse. Just take off your shoes first.” The blonde wizard grinned back as his friend excitedly approached the bed, took off his shoes and practically dived into the large bed. 

Harry sank deep into the soft covers, feeling the expensive fabric press against his face and arms. He could only imagine how wonderful it must be to sleep in this cloud of a bed. “Help, I’m drowning.” He laughed as he rolled around to look up at the ceiling. “Your bed is amazing, how do you even sleep in the one at Hogwarts after this thing?” He wasn’t asking as much as he was joking around.

Hermione glanced from Harry to Malfoy, looking like she had something on her mind. Finally, she licked her lips and addressed the young Master of the house. “You and Harry… share beds?” By the tone of her voice, it was easy to tell that she found the idea strange and unfamiliar. She didn’t quite know how to formulate herself when she asked about it, that much was clear from the way she asked. 

“Not always, only when he needs support.” Malfoy shrugged at her, clearly not understanding what she was bothered by. Not that she was actually bothered, but confused. 

“Last year with everything Lucius Malfoy, he was the one to need support.” Harry answered from within his fluffy bed prison. Malfoy was a little uncomfortable with having the issues with his father and the Chamber of Secrets brought up, but didn't comment. 

Hermione frowned now, keeping her eyes locked to the elaborate carpet underneath her feet. “To Muggles, that is rather… unheard of. Is that common for wizards to do? Two boys in the same bed would be very, uh… strange to a group of Muggles.” 

“Two boys only? Would two girls be fine?” Neville asked her, his confused expression mimicking her own. 

“I think… a lot fewer people would object to two girls sleeping in the same bed…” She mumbled, looking like she wanted to sink through the floor. 

“What about a girl and a boy?” Malfoy joined them in frowning. 

“Oh no. That’s also not alright.” She shook her head, her locks and curls dancing around her face. 

The three wizards looked at her with confused expressions. Harry licked his lips, sitting up in the soft bed. “But if someone needs the comfort of a hug, why would that be denied based on their gender? It makes no sense. Do Muggles believe that boys and men have no need for hugs and closeness to feel better?” 

“I… I don’t know. My parents don’t like me simply hugging a boy.” She admitted, shrugging as if that could hide her discomfort in speaking about the topic. 

“I trust Lupin, I wouldn’t want just anyone to sleep in my bed, even if I knew them.” Malfoy confessed in return. 

“I think I’d be pretty fine with whoever, as long as I knew them at least a little.” Harry pulled his legs up onto the bed, his no longer spread out weight causing him to sink further into the covers. “Also, Hermione, you don’t have to feel like we are blaming you for anything that Muggles do or think. You really don’t have to feel ashamed, it’s not your fault.” He smiled at her, easing her discomfort somewhat. 

“I… I know that. Just… thank you.” She nervously began playing with her hair. “Either way, should we exchange presents? And maybe save Harry from the bed?” She giggled as she asked the last question. 

“You cannot save me. I have been consumed. I can never leave.” Harry chuckled, falling back on the bed once more. “Don’t cry for me, for I am home.” 

“Glad to know your home is my home, in my room, in my bed.” Malfoy’s voice had turned dry, he crossed his arms over his chest but only managed to keep his stern look for a few seconds before he began laughing. As the young Master of the house laughed, so did Harry, Neville and Hermione. 

“Then we will just share presents without you.” Neville smiled as he pulled his bag off his shoulder and began searching for Harry’s birthday present. 

“No, I am coming.” The son of a werewolf laughed as he rolled off the bed and came to join the group where they were standing on the carpet, his bare feet secured from the cold of the floor by the heavy carpet which covered said floor. “I want to give you my present too.” He reached for his bag, but realised that he didn’t have it on his shoulder. “...Did I leave my bag with dad?” He asked his friends, frowning. 

“Yes, Mr. Lupin was carrying a bag, you weren’t.” Hermione informed him. 

“...Oops.” Harry licked his lips. “I will go get it, I suppose. Uhm… What way…?” He looked at his friend. 

“I’ll send the House Elf.” Malfoy responded. He called a name, causing a small creature to appear by his side. She was dressed in a pillowcase which had been sown to fit her body. She wore a set of homemade boots on her feet, and thin, childlike gloves on her hands. While it wasn’t possible for the Malfoy family to give her the finished items, it seemed as if they had provided her with the means to dress herself at least respectably. “Retrieve the bag from Remus Lupin, do not disturb him and mother, but do make note that you have brought the bag to his son.” 

The House Elf nodded, bowed again and disappeared. When she returned, she had brought the bag, which she placed before Harry. 

“Thank you.” The boy bent down to pick it up, thus missing the surprised look on her face before she bowed once more and disappeared. Harry dug through the bag until he found his package for Neville, which he held up with a happy look on his face. “Found it.” 

The group gathered around upon the carpet, in front of the fireplace. Every room which they had been in seemed to have one, Harry didn’t realise why until Hermione pointed out that the Muggles who built the manor wouldn’t have had any other way of heating it. The floor carpet was clean so there was no reason as to why they would not sit on it. It felt good to sit on the floor rather than find another decorated and formal meeting room in which they would continue to be proper. On the floor, in front of the fireplace, they could just be themselves. 

Harry handed his present to Neville first with a ‘happy birthday’, excited to have him open it. The boy was slightly embarrassed to go first, but he opened the cheaply wrapped present and found a set of clumsily made knitted socks. They weren’t badly made, but it was clear that the creator didn’t have that much experience in knitting. The socks themselves were in red and yellow. 

“Wow!” The Gryffindor boy held the socks up. “You made these, Harry? That’s so cool!” He didn’t hesitate to take his shoes off and begin pulling them on. 

Malfoy laughed in a non-mocking way, finding the knitted socks to be very humorous, as he was the one who had suggested to Harry that he should start knitting his own clothes as a joke last winter. It was very fun to the blonde wizard to see that Harry had actually tried to learn the craft. 

“Thank you!” Harry beamed back. “They are my first pair, and it was pretty fun. I think I’ll be able to make a lot better ones in the future, so just you wait for the Holidays.” 

“You even used two colors?” Hermione leaned in to take a closer look. “Very impressive.” 

“There was a gold one in the store, but it was kind of expensive so I went with yellow instead, I hope that was alright?” The son of a werewolf couldn’t help but look a little insecure as he spoke about the yarn. 

“They are perfect!” Neville smiled at him, wagging his toes. “There is a little extra room, but these will be wonderful during winter at Hogwarts. I’m always cold in my bed, these are sure to save me.” He turned to pick his own present up and handed it to Harry. “Happy birthday.” 

“Thank you.” He opened the package, finding a chocolate bar in the shape of a book. Harry blinked at it, before a grin spread over his face. “Books and chocolate? Thank you! This is so thoughtful of you.” 

Neville blushed in response. “I wanted to give you something more fun than just chocolate, I thought that shape was something you’d enjoy.” 

“I do!” Harry agreed. 

“Here, my turn.” Hermione smiled at them both as he handed them two packages which looked identical. “It might be a little boring, but I got you the same present, so you should open the presents together.” 

They counted to three before they opened them to find a copy each of a Muggle book. “ _CPR basics. A guide to practical first response._ ” Harry read. 

“Oh, it’s about Muggle healing?” Neville looked up at the Muggle-born girl, smiling at her. 

She smiled back. “It’s not exactly healing, but I suppose you could sort of call it that?” She shrugged, having given up trying to explain that it wasn’t exactly healing in the sense of what that word meant. 

Harry was already flipping through the book, finding clear and detailed pictures on the pages. “I know what I’m reading when I’m back home. Thank you, Hermione.” 

“Thank you.” Neville echoed, smiling at the girl. 

“May I borrow it from Lupin later?” Malfoy was uncertain who to address, making him look back and forth towards his best friend and his other friend. Both nodded. The wizard smiled before he handed Harry his own package, then handed another one to Neville. 

Harry opened his to find five pairs of high quality socks, made out of some manner of soft, breathable material. He hurriedly placed a pair upon his naked feet, finding that it was like putting his feet into a cloud. “These are lovely, thank you so much!” He beamed at his friend. 

“I told you I would get you socks. These shouldn’t be breaking anytime soon.” Malfoy seemed satisfied with himself. 

“This is just what I needed, you’re the best.” Harry came over to give him a hug, cuddling up to his friend who patted his back in return. 

“I know.” He chuckled before returning the hug. “Does that mean I have to look forward to socks like Longbottom’s in the future?”

“I’ll definitely make you a pair too. To match with your cufflinks.” Harry moved on to hug Hermione more carefully, as she didn’t really like hugs. He thanked her for the present, then returned to Neville to hug him too. 

Neville opened his package, which was large and shaped in a strange manner. Inside, he found a broom. It wasn’t the latest or fastest model, but it was a rather new one. The boy’s jaw dropped as he stared from it to Malfoy. “I… I can’t accept this! Is this a Nimbus? This is far too expensive!” 

Malfoy shook his head. “It’s my old broom. I am not using it and I haven’t used it for… three or four years.” He counted backwards in his head. “If you believe it’s too much for you, then you can pay me back by practicing and playing Quidditch with me.” He grinned, looking satisfied with himself. 

“You want me to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team?” The almost Squib’s jaw fell as he stared at his friend. “Me?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything but play with me for fun. You won’t be a challenge and you won’t get better flying on your grandfather’s tree branch. Like this, I will have more fun. Father was planning on simply throwing that broom away, so either you take it or the trash can gets it. It is truly nothing special about this, really, Lupin’s socks had more effort and emotion put into them than me handing you an old broom.” Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest, huffing disapprovingly. 

“If it was going to be thrown away… I guess I don’t mind taking it off your hands…” Neville hesitated a little longer before accepting the broom. “Thank you so much. I’ll try and get better at playing so that you will have more fun.” 

Malfoy waved his hand. “I’m already having fun, what I want is a challenge.” His eyes challenged the other boy, who chuckled in return. Harry thought that it was a little funny to see them stumble around one another, wanting to play the same sport with one another but struggling with how to phrase it without being intimidating on Malfoy’s part and too nervous on Neville’s. 

The Gryffindor boy made his round as well, hugging everyone for his presents. He hesitated to hug Malfoy, but the two of them embraced clumsily before separating. Both pretending that the hug hadn’t been as awkward as it was. 

The group started to talk about their summer with one another. Hermione had a comparatively calm one, she explained that she had continued with the assigned exercises after being petrified, and that her body seemed to be completely back to normal. Everyone was glad to hear that. She continued to say that since she had gotten hurt, her parents had decided to stay at home rather than go abroad, something she was satisfied with. 

Harry hesitated but then began telling them about the biggest event during his summer, namely the escape of Sirius Black. He carefully retold his friends what his father had told him, how Black had been a friend to his dad and birth parents both, and how he had betrayed them. 

Malfoy nodded slowly. “My father talked about this… Sirius Black was hunted down by a man named Pettigrew. Black was trapped by him and reacted by blowing up a street, killing twelve Muggles and Pettigrew. When the authorities found him, he was standing in the middle of the destruction, laughing…” His words made everyone present shudder, Hermione covered her mouth. 

“Twelve…? Oh…” She mumbled to herself. 

Harry licked his lips, looking highly uncomfortable. His dad hadn’t mentioned that, but judging by the distress and pain which his father had been in, he likely hadn’t been trying to hide it as much as he had focused on telling him other things. Still, it felt a little uncomfortable to Harry that his parent had forgotten something as important. He didn’t hold it against him, but it was making him feel strange to think of it. 

“All that was left of Pettigrew was a finger.” Malfoy concluded, sounding a little like he was finishing up a ghost story. 

“Dad did mention his friend Peter Pettigrew, I’m assuming that friend and the one who Black killed to be the same person. After all, dad said that he lost everyone he loved that night.” Harry nodded, not certain of what he was agreeing with but the movement felt natural. “He also told me that Black is an unregistered animagus, his shape is that of a dog. Some manner of big, black dog.” 

“Unregistered?” Hermione echoed, looking uncomfortable. “How frightening.” She whispered. 

“No wonder it’s not commonly known if he is unregistered.” Neville agreed. “But if your dad knows, why doesn’t he tell the authorities?” 

Harry hesitated. “Dad says that the Wizarding World is prone to overreacting. When mages overreact or act in a panic, people get hurt. In this case, they might try to hunt down Black by hunting every stray dog on the streets, only to then move onto any dog which might resemble him, and then the ones which have no resemblance whatsoever.” Harry shook his head, not wanting to think of all those canines who might be hurt thanks to mage paranoia. “I don’t want innocent beings hurt. I don’t want dogs to be killed for the sake of that man. Thus, I don’t want any of you to tell anyone else about Black’s shape.” He hadn’t quite realised all of this when Remus first tried to tell him about the repercussion which his old friend might have on the other dogs in the country, but when he retold it to his friends, he fully understood the value of keeping the animagus shape secret. 

Malfoy, Hermione and Neville nodded. 

“I understand, I will keep the secret and be mindful of any dogs I see outside of and around Hogwarts.” Malfoy concluded. The two Gryffindors agreed by nodding as well. 

“Will you be safe going to Hogsmeade this year then?” Neville frowned at Harry, who looked uncertain. 

“Probably not… If I go with a teacher, I should be safe but I’m not sure if it’s worth risking it.” The son of a werewolf concluded. “And one more thing…” He glanced towards Malfoy, trying to find his words before speaking, and then continued. “Dad is worried about your safety as well, which is why he came with me to speak with your mom.”

Malfoy looked tense as he answered. “Yes. I have come to understand that it is possible for Black to house anger towards me due to my family lineage.” He had begun playing with his cufflinks once more, seeking comfort in the items which he so treasured. 

“Then… neither of you is safe?” The Gryffindor boy looked uncomfortable. “This madman might hunt you down and try to hurt you? That’s… unfair.” He finished weakly, returning to staring down at the carpet. 

“Black is going to be captured again.” Hermione spoke with conviction. “He isn’t You-know-who, he is just a wizard. The whole Wizarding World is looking for Black, they are sure to find him and lock him back up.” 

Harry nodded, feeling his spirits rise somewhat at her conviction. “Yeah. Not to mention that dad will be at Hogwarts too, and we have all these capable teachers to rely on. I think that Hogwarts will be far safer than many other places I could be in. Not to mention that my dad will protect you too, Malfoy, not just me.” 

The blonde boy looked surprised, before his expression turned surprisingly humble. He nodded, smiling in an almost shy manner. “I suppose I might even believe that.” 

“Have I ever lied to you?” Harry grinned back, moving in to push his shoulder against his friend’s. 

“I’m sure you have, but I can’t recall any at the top of my head.” The blonde pushed back in a friendly manner. 

“Catch me lying and you can condemn me then.” The son of a werewolf laughed. 

“Earlier, you were saying that you were never going to leave Malfoy’s bed, and here you are on the carpet.” Neville chuckled. 

“Oh no, I have been caught!” Harry exclaimed with a laugh. The rest of the group joined in, laughing together. It seemed to ease a bit of the tense atmosphere in the room. Even if none of the children were particularly happy with the knowledge that a dangerous criminal could come after them, they still found themselves feeling safe in Malfoy Manor, far away from their possibility of a murderer getting to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **The Malfoy Manor**  
>  The estate used for the Malfoy Manor is a real Elizabethian country estate built between 1590 and 1597, by the name of Hardwick Hall. [More information here.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hardwick_Hall)
> 
> Seeing Rowling generally has chosen to pass of her book series as a thing happening in the background of our world, we have decided to keep the estate as is with minor changes. This also means that the added cone-shaped tower rooftops in the canon does not exist in our version. The building is very much accurate to its actual appearance and time period of building. 
> 
> For those interested, [here's an image of the full floor plans of the building.](https://simanaitissays.files.wordpress.com/2014/03/hardwickplan.jpg) While the layout is the same, the usage of different rooms is slightly different in our work. 
> 
> Due to our personal interest in accurate history and awareness of general historical anachronisms, we've decided to keep the general color scheme of the real estate of Hardwick Hall. Black is not a very grand color and makes rooms seem smaller than they are compared to the bright, large and grand halls of such a building as this. 
> 
> **Not everything is black**  
>  It is not an entirely uncommon misconception that Victorian times were generally colorless and dark, dreary and grey. This is historically inaccurate, especially regarding fashion and how people presented themselves, as well as in how they decorated their homes. A lot of things were bright, bold and colorful. This is relevant as the Malfoys and quite a bit of the Pureblood community in the Wizarding World presents themselves in late Renaissance, Victorian and Edwardian fashion in our canon, depending a bit on occasion. The Pureblood society will not always wear black and dark colors, especially not those wearing female presenting attire. Lucius personally chooses to mostly wear fitted black attire, and thus Draco has adapted a similar fashion style since young age. Thus imagining every adult Pureblood or Death Eater wearing black/dark colors will be inaccurate in this work.


	4. Chapter 3 - In which Narcissa Malfoy expresses her views on education

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Madam of the house looked over at the werewolf, her expression tense but controlled. “I would like to hear your reasons as to why you think that my son is in danger from an escaped criminal long since removed from my family.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** Self harm, but in that of a werewolf accidentally hurting itself. If you do not wish to read about it in detail, avoid the paragraphs talking about the werewolf shape in the beginning and focus on the conversations.

The room which had been prepared for their meeting was a large one. It was clearly a parlour of some kind, Remus was certain that there was a name for it, but he could only think of it as a tea parlour. Although the room was large, it was not empty. In front of an elaborate fireplace stood a table, accompanied by two tall armchairs and a sofa. The general colors in the room were softer sand tones, accompanied by green furniture and the pale yet elegant wooden table. Over the fireplace was a detailed painting of the Malfoy Manor, which Remus assumed was there as to not have any portraits or painted people wander in or out in the paintings and bother the speaking guests. 

Mrs. Malfoy took a seat in one of the armchairs, signalling for Remus that he may have a seat in either the sofa or the other armchair. He picked the sofa, as the chair seemed far too expensive for him. 

It was hard to not feel underdressed in front of Narcissa Malfoy, the werewolf felt oddly aware of everything from his scarred appearance to his own old shoes. She had so far shown no disinterest or discrimination towards him, but that did not mean that she thought highly of him. 

“Mr. Lupin, while we wait for tea, I’d wish to ask something of you.” Her voice was by no means close to as dark as it had been when she was scolding her husband in the Headmaster’s office last year, but it was nonetheless stern. Remus judged this to be her normal tone of voice, thus concluding that she was probably addressing him as she would any other guest whom she had yet to come to know. 

“I will do my best to answer.” The werewolf nodded, surprised to learn that there would be tea served for them. He had placed his bag down in front of his feet upon sitting down, now leaning back on the sofa without trying to appear too relaxed or at home. 

“I understand that the question is private in nature, but I must ask the reason for your scars.” She spared no time in pointing out one of Remus’ biggest insecurities and discomforts. “I understand that you have been hired by Hogwarts, which means that you are by no means a danger to my child or the rest of the school, yet those scars are causing me to worry nonetheless. Thus, I should be frank and request an answer as to what gave you those scars.” The woman stared at him, causing the werewolf to feel as if she was trying to disintegrate him with her eyes alone. 

Remus turned his eyes away, not like a shamed dog, but like a man who did not enjoy speaking of a traumatic incident. “I was young back then. A child. I found an owl in the woods. I believed it to be dead at the time, yet it was merely wounded. I picked it up and… well…” He absently ran a finger over the scar he knew to be the most prominent. “It was very much eager to live.” It was a lie he had practiced many times, a lie he could tell without allowing his nervousness to give it away as a lie. 

The truth was that the marks had been left by him. Or rather, not him, but the beast. The Shrieking Shack had been a blessing to Remus, but a curse to the werewolf. Whereas the boy had found himself safe to the outside world, the monster had found itself locked from it. With nothing to scratch, bite or otherwise attack, the beast had turned towards its own body, leaving the child with large gashes and wounds. 

The young boy had often wondered if the beast was trying to enact some manner of revenge on him. If it somehow knew that it was Remus’ fault that it wasn’t allowed to be a wild beast in the forest like it was supposed to. If it loathed him and wanted to harm him for not allowing it to live. However, as an adult, that seemed far fetched. It was far more likely that the werewolf had felt trapped and that the adrenaline rush and its instincts had caused it to harm itself without truly intending to. 

“The scars on my face are old. People tend to think that there is something more to it than simply a non magical owl, but I was too young for any type of advanced magic to be used on me. As it is today, I do not have the money to remove them by magic.” The werewolf shrugged. “The other scars I do have have been made by various dark creatures which I had the inconvenience to encounter during my work. None of them are very exciting I’m afraid.” The man finished, shrugging. “I do understand that they look bad, but there is little I can do.”

She slowly nodded, making it impossible for the frightened werewolf to truly know if he had fooled her or not. He felt a little bad for lying, but the consequences of the truth were far too harsh for the man to share them with anyone. It was nothing personal towards her. 

“I understand. In the meantime, tell me more about your teaching practices.” As she requested him to speak of work, there was a gentle knock on the door. A young servant entered, carrying a tray of tea. He placed it down before them, silently handing one to Remus while he placed the Madam’s cup before her. He was in and out in less than a minute, having said nothing and completed his job flawlessly. 

“My teaching practices?” The man echoed her question back at her, asking for more than just the words she had given so that he would know what to answer her. 

“I find the subject you are teaching to have been consistently mishandled over the years. I want Draco to have a complete education and a functional one, and I am not certain he is actually receiving that. With Lucius no longer being a part of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, I find myself more worried than ever about my son’s education. Thus, I’d like to know more about how you plan on teaching your subject.” 

“Indeed.” Remus nodded now, feeling secure in that he understood what was being asked of him. “I have come to understand from my own son’s discussion about the subject that it has been rather tumultuous. Although a curriculum has been followed, it has promoted a type of learning where the students are encouraged to know the answers beforehand. To make it clearer what I am referring to, rather than having the student study the course literature so as to learn, they are more or less expected to have learned it beforehand. The school has a higher focus on learning outside of the classroom than inside it. I plan on working more closely with the assigned literature and encourage discussion between students to promote exchange of information, rather than individual work outside of the classroom.” 

The woman nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Modern teaching methods then, in comparison to the older ones?” 

The Professor nodded. “Yes. I want my classroom to be an open discussion where information itself isn’t treated as currency but something to share with the other students. Where exchange of information and verbal communication is in focus. I do not plan on punishing questions but instead encourage them beyond anything else.” 

The woman looked somewhat uncertain at his words, but clearly interested in what he was saying. “That does sound… innovative. I shall question my son about it later, but as it is now, I am already impressed with your vision. Having confirmed you do seem capable in your subject and the planning of your teaching, I will believe in your abilities to discuss the matter which you came to speak to me of.” She reached for her teacup, brought it to her lips and drank. 

Remus leaned forward to do the same, the tea was still warm and more than calming. He allowed himself to close his eyes and take a deep breath before focusing on the woman instead. He was fairly nervous, and being around Narcissa Malfoy felt a little bit like being constantly on trial, yet he had to discuss this. “Thank you for seeing me. As I said in my letter, I wish to speak of Sirius Black, your cousin.” 

Her thin lips became thinner upon her being called Sirius’ cousin. “Allow me to make one thing most clear, I do not consider the man to be related to me in any way. He was removed from the family tree and removed from my life. The last I saw of him was when I was still attending Hogwarts. I have not spoken to him since I was but a child.” 

“I understand.” Remus humbly agreed with her. “I am in no way accusing or expecting you to have anything to do with Sirius Black.” He almost called him by his first name. He could tell that that was not something which was welcomed in this household. “Neither do I hope that you would accuse me of having anything to do with him in return. I have not seen him in twelve years.” 

She studied his face with a displeased look. “Are you telling me to not make any assumptions about you, as you will make none about me?” Her gloved hand was impatiently tapping the side of her teacup. 

“I believe that you are completely entitled to whatever opinions and assumptions you want, Mrs. Malfoy, I am not trying to be disrespectful. What I am trying to say is that just as you have been cut off from him, so have I. Regardless of our previous relationship, or lack thereof, with Black, we are both meeting today as parents of children who might become targets for misguided attacks by a deranged, dangerous man. I want to discuss with you what we can do to protect our sons from someone who might want to harm them.”

When Remus had still been a teenager, he had imagined all the Blacks to be evil to some degree. Sirius had certainly made them seem that way. The way they seemed to be hurting Sirius, and the way in which they had tried to force the man into dark practices and prejudiced opinions made them seem horrible and cruel. However, the young werewolf had also been struggling with his own family relations. His own father had been searching for a cure for his condition, desperately trying to hide and remove the stain on his name which was his werewolf child. He had felt like a burden to his father and mother, like an unwelcome monster in their perfect little household. 

In that situation, while being pushed away by his own family, seeing Sirius struggle as well had been relieving in a sense. It felt like they had something in common, something which he himself understood in his friend. Then, when Sirius had made the choice to remove himself from his family and they had been equally happy to remove him, it had almost been a confirmation that Remus could do the same thing. Thus, he did. 

It was the best for everyone involved. 

Sometimes, there just was no compromise, sometimes, there was no choice. To Sirius and Remus both, freedom had been to remove themselves from their family and relatives, and create a family of friends, without the bonds of blood. Remus didn’t regret it, leaving had been right for him. He was certain that Sirius had felt the same. 

However, Narcissa Malfoy wasn’t evil just because she and her family had been unable to understand Sirius Black. She was not evil because Sirius’ mother demanded he became a Death Eater. Whatever faults she and her relatives held, it did not have anything to do with her son Draco Malfoy. 

Remus was no longer the same as he had been in his teenage. He no longer had the energy to care about hating people for other people’s sake. He felt no hate towards the woman before him. He was sure that their personal differences were plenty and violently clashing at parts, but they also agreed on points, especially about caring for children and behaviours of authorities. Still, nothing of that really mattered when a possible madman might want to hurt their children. 

The Madam of the house looked over at the werewolf, her expression tense but controlled. “I would like to hear your reasons as to why you think that my son is in danger from an escaped criminal long since removed from my family.” 

Remus carefully took a sip of the tea, needing it’s soothing warmth to calm himself down and ease his throat. “I apologise for raising the subject in your home, but there is one thing I am rather certain of when it comes to Sirius Black, and that is that he was not a Death Eater.” Her eye twitched as he mentioned the name of the Dark Lord’s followers. “Most of the Black family’s dissonance came from the fact that their son did not wish to be a Death Eater. I am not accusing your family of being the same, or am I accusing your current household to hold such loyalties. I only know for a fact that Walpurga Black was, and that she was pushing her sons to become as well. I have reason to believe she managed with her second son, but failed with Sirius. As a young teenager, he even ran away from home to escape his mother and her beliefs.” 

The woman nodded slowly. “You do not believe that my disowned cousin was a follower of the Dark Lord?” One of her gloved fingers was still tapping slowly at her half empty cup. 

“On the contrary, I believe that he was disowned for not being one.” Remus nodded to emphasise his point. “Thus, I fear that Black might recognise your son as a member of the Black family, even if he is a Malfoy before anything else. I’m afraid that his more likely deranged mind would relate your son to the family he hates, and perhaps seek vengeance on that innocent party. I am not fearing him coming after your son as much as I fear that he might find Draco with Harry and hurt him in the process.” It felt a little strange to call the boy by his first name, but as his teacher, it felt even more unnatural to continuously refer to him by other traits rather than simply speak his name. 

The mother looked into his eyes, and Remus looked back before politely averting his eyes. She stretched herself up, looking down at the man with authority and power before she slowly nodded. “I believe your reasoning to be correct. Draco could be in danger if he remained around your son, yet I…” She turned away from the man, looking into the fireplace. Whatever she was seeing, it was not the same smoldering embers which the werewolf saw. 

“I’ve read far too many stories about what happens when people try to separate two who love one another.” When she continued, she did not speak of the love between their children as a defined type of love, but used the word love so as to not deny how strong their friendship was. “If I choose the option of separating Draco from your son, I will encourage behavior which might risk them engaging in illegal or risky behavior for the sake of seeing one another. Not to mention they share the same dormitory, so further separation would only be all the more complicated. In reality, separating them for the sake of Draco’s safety is not realistic. It is likely to actually cause them to act in ways which might allow my disowned cousin to reach them in the first place.” 

The father nodded once again. “I have also thought this over and reached the same conclusion. I believe we should take measurements with the outlook of them wanting to be together rather than kept apart. With that in mind…”

Before he had the chance to speak, a House Elf appeared in the room. She bowed deeply, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable with having disrupted the conversation. She carefully pointed at the bag next to Remus, who moved to give it to her. As she held out her arms for it, she carefully spoke the name of his son before proceeding to tell him that he would find the bag in his room upon retiring that day. The werewolf thanked her as she bowed and disappeared once more. 

Remus thought for a second before looking back to the Madam of the house. “Yes. I have already been in contact with Professor Dumbledore and have been informed that the Ministry of Magic will be sending Dementors to guard Hogwarts this year. While I am worried that their presence will be frightening and upsetting to the students, I have been assured that they will be kept from the grounds and away from the students. They will offer a line of defense from Black, but as they are not intelligent beings as much as they are creatures, I’m afraid that there will be ways for him to get past them. He escaped from Azkaban, he might be able to circle them again.” 

The Madam nodded. “I agree. They are a start, but not a complete defense. I have considered forbidding Draco from visiting Hogsmeade this year, until the man has been captured and put back in Azkaban. I do not want him to leave the grounds of Hogwarts, or walk around in the castle on his own.” 

“I feel the same way. I was planning on having Harry spend the Hogsmeade weekends with me in my office or living quarters so as to not leave him alone and unattended in Hogwarts. Despite Hogwarts usually being very active, during the one time a month when the Hogsmeade visits are authorised, the castle gets comparably empty to my understanding. As is well known about the school, there are many secret passages and the like all around the castle, and I fear for the risk that Black might make it inside. I do however feel calmer when I think of the fact that he was never a Slytherin, and knows little to nothing of the layout of that part of the castle.” 

In reality, Sirius did know some things about the Slytherin common room layout and the rooms within it, but he likely didn’t remember much since it had been such a long time. Not to mention that they were never able to find any secret passages into the Slytherin dormitories. They had found ways into every other common room, but the Slytherin dungeons were inaccessible in ways that a tower was not. Harry and Draco were likely far more safe in the Slytherin quarters than they would have been in any other House. 

Remus truly wished that he still had the Marauders’ Map, that item would have been immensely helpful in this situation. He promised himself that he would visit Filch’s trove of confiscated items and see if he could still find it there. If nothing else, he might be able to enchant another map to be able to show him similar things as the original map did. However, the creation of the map had been a complex ritual which he and his friends had failed at numerous times until they did get it right. It had further included information from the Blacks’ family library which Sirius had gotten his hands on. It hadn’t been a morally correct thing to do to spy on their classmates and the people in the school, and as an adult Remus realised just how illegal such an item as their map actually had been. If he was to make another one, it would require actual approval from the Headmaster due to the specific circumstances regarding Sirius Black. Still, even without the map there should be some way to guard the hidden passages which he knew to exist at Hogwarts, the bigger problem was that Remus couldn’t remember all of them. He was worried that a path which he had forgotten might be one Sirius still recalled. 

The mother seemed to approve of his words. “Then we should have them stay in the Slytherin quarters as much as possible, and spend the Hogsmeade weekends under your supervision.” She did not ask as much as she decided on the solution on her own. 

“I believe that is the best solution for now. When they are at Hogwarts, spending time in larger groups is most likely the safest option when moving from class to class. Even if the man is as insane as we believe him to be, he isn’t very likely to attack a larger group of students inside of Hogwarts.” Remus summarised. 

“With the number of accomplished mages who assemble at Hogwarts every year, it isn’t too likely that he’d do something that foolish.” The woman agreed with him. “Perhaps a Prefect could be arranged to accompany them as well… That would ease my nerves somewhat. I shall see what can be done, I will write to the Headmaster and the Board of Governors.” 

The two of them agreed very much in their conclusions of how to keep their sons safe. For the following hours, they discussed the technicalities of how to accomplish the plans which they had made. They both agreed to speak about their decisions with the children openly during that evening’s dinner.

After they finished their more serious discussions, they took the time to discuss what had happened last year with the Chamber of Secrets. It was clear by the way she spoke of it that the woman had discussed this matter thoroughly with her husband. She was very careful not to reveal too much or speak in too honest words, but it was becoming exceedingly clear to Remus that she too needed someone else to speak about those past events, other than her more than likely guilty husband. 

Remus came to find that Narcissa Malfoy was a highly intellectual, yet seemingly rather lonely woman. While she did not appear lonely in the household with the number of servants and animals surrounding her, the way which she seemed to reach out to someone like Remus made him think that she might lack friendships and trust in the people around her. He supposed it wasn't unimaginable to think she did not have a lot of people to trust in her life, as her general lifestyle and attitude towards others put a certain barrier between herself and her surroundings. Even her husband seemed to have gone behind her back in his schemes during the previous year, and it was clearly bothering the woman, or at least so Remus could deduce decently by smell, even if she didn't quite let it show in her behaviour, or admitted to it having happened in the first place.

By the end of their conversation, the two of them both felt a little closer to the other parent, and found that they had more in common than they expected to have. It almost felt to Remus like he had managed to make a friend. A somewhat false, scheming and fickle friend, but a friend nonetheless.


	5. Chapter 4 - In which the Dementors are chased away from the Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This isn’t… where I was… why am I here?” Weasley slowly sat up, turning to find that his compartment had been replaced with this one. He was rightfully confused. “There were those… things. Their breathing… I felt as if… and then I heard… I…” He shuddered, his eyes appearing to turn wetter with every word he spoke. 

The time he and his friends spent at Malfoy Manor came to be Harry’s favorite memory of that summer. The estate allowed him to forget all about Sirius Black and while it did not feel like home, it felt safe. 

Neville and Malfoy spent most of the weekend playing Quidditch together. The Gryffindor boy fell off his broom once when he first tried to ride it, but after that he remained securely upon the broom. It was almost as if it had only thrown him off once to test his courage and will to mount it again. The two boys flew around together, chasing over the grounds and around the estate, dodging the hedges and circling the fountain. Together, they passed a ball back and forth, in the beginning, Neville dropped it a lot but by the end of the weekend, he had vastly improved as a flier. Malfoy was enthusiastic about the Gryffindor boy trying out for his Quidditch team, continuously urging him that he had to at least try for the position of Chaser. Neville finally gave in, saying that he didn’t expect to be accepted into the team but that he would try since Malfoy wanted it so much. 

Harry spent most of the time at the Manor reading. Malfoy had allowed both him and Hermione to borrow whatever non-fragile books they wanted from the library, as long as they were careful. Harry made certain to ask one extra time before bringing any book out with him to the garden. He would sit and read in the shadows, or lay in the sun with Missy the snake, sometimes watching the other boys fly. Whenever Missy was with him, Hermione stayed away. It seemed that she had developed quite the phobia for snakes after seeing the basilisk coming towards her last year. She may have been petrified as a result of seeing it, but that did not mean that she didn’t remember seeing Secrets in the Ravenclaw Prefect’s hand mirror and the terror she had felt at that moment. Harry understood and tried to make everything as easy as possible for her by keeping Missy inside his sleeve or fully visible on top of him and a bit away from her. 

Surprisingly enough, it seemed that Hermione got along splendidly with Mrs. Malfoy. The two of them had begun chatting about architecture during breakfast, the discussion had spiralled into speaking about Malfoy Manor. The two women had walked off together, much to the young Master’s worry, but by the time they returned, they were deeply involved in analysing Classic Muggle literature together, much to the young Malfoy’s relief.

Remus was also allowed to borrow whatever books he wanted but he instead took the time to reread the book which he had picked as course literature for the seventh year students, taking the time to study it yet again to make certain it delivered well enough for his expectation. He took the time to speak with his host as well as the children, engaging in discussion or analysis when it was asked of him. The werewolf, the Muggle-born and the Pureblood witch found themselves engaged in discussions about Shakespeare more than once during the stay, as the Madam of the house was very interested in the topic. 

The two parents were very honest with their children and the two Gryffindors about what they were expecting from the escaped criminal Sirius Black. They spoke about their plans and precautions, leading the assembled children to understand what was expected of them. 

While Malfoy and Harry weren’t thrilled to have to stay at Hogwarts and under the watchful eye of Harry’s dad, they did understand why it was asked of them and thus agreed to the demand. Harry knew that he didn’t mind spending time with his dad, but he expected to get cabin fever from being locked to one room during his supposed free time. At least he knew that his dad would take them on walks outside if they just asked, which helped a little against the feeling of being trapped. Then again, he wasn’t alone in being trapped, which made the suffocating feeling in his chest ease. 

When the time came for the group said goodbye to one another, Harry felt excited to get back home, but equally sad to leave his friends. He hugged Malfoy tightly, receiving an equally tight hug back. The two of them promised to stay safe and careful until they met again. Narcissa Malfoy bid both Remus and the girl farewell as her son and Neville shook hands. The two boys had seemingly reached a conclusion where they were both satisfied to not hug one another but still remain a little physical. 

Harry and Remus said goodbye to the two Gryffindors at King’s Cross station, they would both see them again soon, as the Hogwarts fall term was only a month away. 

The month passed quickly enough, with Remus being very busy preparing for his first teaching position since he received his title of Professor. He was excited but very nervous. His son helpfully reminded him of what to pack when he found his dad circling the dining table as he muttered about what he would need at Hogwarts, trying to note it down onto a small note which he could later refer his packing to. The werewolf was very happy for the help. 

Harry and his dad arrived early to the train station. Both were relieved to find that they could easily enter through the secret wall and reach platform nine and three quarters. They entered the train from the back, and found a compartment where they settled down. Harry’s dad was once again a little nervous about taking up space from Harry and his friends, but the boy once again assured the man that he was welcome and that nobody minded him being there. 

The first one of Harry’s friends to find them was Theodore Nott, who happily slid into the seat opposite of the man. 

“Good morning, Professor Lupin. Little Lupin-ling.” He addressed both the father and son. 

Harry grinned. “Greetings, Nott-ling.” 

“Good morning, Mr. Nott.” Remus smiled weakly at him, happy to be remembered after just one month of teaching, but still a little embarrassed to be there in the first place. “Is your hand quite alright?” Harry didn’t notice it until his dad pointed it out, but as it was pointed out, he saw that the boy’s hand was wrapped up with bandages. 

“Oh this?” The eccentric boy held up his hand, showing that it was mostly his left ring finger which had gotten the worst of the accident. “I was working on one of my noisemakers, a small little thing to distract people as a joke. Nothing illegal, Professor, I swear. Well, one of the springs misaligned and gave me a squeeze.” He shrugged, seemingly not very bothered by the event. “I was thinking of having Madam Pomfrey have a look at it tomorrow but it really doesn’t hurt very much so I think I’ll be fine.” 

“Please be careful with yourself, Mr. Nott.” The father and Professor smiled at the boy who grinned back in a mischievous yet innocent way. 

“How was your summer, Lup-ling?” The boy turned towards Harry, who snorted over the way his friend had changed his name. 

Before he could answer, Hermione found their compartment and came inside, followed by Neville. “Hello, everyone. May we join you?” The girl was cheerful. 

In her arms, she held a big, fluffy animal which Harry was unable to identify at first. It was clearly a feline, but what else it was than that, Harry didn’t know. The possibly cat was huge, ginger-colored and with the fluffiest tail the Slytherin boy had ever seen. Its face made it seem like the feline had run head first into a brick wall. The bright yellow eyes stared grumpily out at the world where it hung in Hermione’s arms. 

“Wow, is that a cat?” Nott stared at the beast in her arms with excitement as she sat down next to Harry. 

“He is absolutely gorgeous, isn’t he?” She looked down upon the creature in her arms as Neville sat down next to Nott. 

“He is huge!” Nott grinned, reaching out to let the animal sniff him. The cat hissed as he approached, leaving him to lean back again. “Damnit, they never like me.” 

“It’s alright, I don’t think he likes me either.” Neville confessed. “Hi, Harry. Good morning, Professor Lupin.”

“It’s part Kneazle, they are not always too comfortable with humans.”

Remus held out his hand towards the creature as well, watching as it sniffed his hand. To everyone’s surprise, the cat stepped over Harry and relocated itself in Remus’ lap, where he curled together. 

Harry made a face. “Do you mind trading places with me, Hermione? I’m sort of scared of cats.” He confessed, looking back and forth between the animal and his dad. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” The Gryffindor looked uncertain as she traded places with him. “I don’t think he will bother you but if he does I wi-”

“No, no, I’m fine, I just…” Harry raised his hands, shaking his head as he searched for a way to formulate himself. “I like dogs, and I understand their body language. I never know what a cat wants and that makes me uncertain.” 

“Oh, our local dog doesn’t like cats? I’m endlessly surprised.” Draco Malfoy was suddenly standing in the door, grinning at Harry with a teasing gleam in his eyes. 

“Glad to hear I can surprise you after all these years.” Harry grinned back as his best friend slid into the seat next to Neville after lifting his bag up on the rack above them. He did it so effortlessly that Harry felt like he was showing off. 

“You don’t get to say all these years yet. We haven’t known each other for that long.” Malfoy crossed his legs, sighing dramatically before smiling again. “Good morning, Professor Lupin. Greetings to everyone else, and what happened to your hand, Nott?” 

“What happened to your hair, Malfoy?” The other Slytherin boy retorted, still smiling. 

The blonde boy carefully touched his hair, looking a little uncertain. “I suppose I grew tired of the way it made my face seem so… round.” He shrugged. 

“It looks good on you.” Nott responded before anyone else could. “Never go back. As for my hand, a spring bit me when I was working.” 

“What are you making now?” Malfoy seemed less bothered as the topic shifted to something other than his hair. 

“A noisemaker, right?” Harry involved himself in the talk, happy to not think about the scary half cat who had taken up position in his dad’s lap. 

“Yep!” The Slytherin boy grinned and began telling them all about his inventions. He was still talking about the things he had made that summer when the train started rolling, bringing the students and the one Professor towards another year and Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

The group spoke about summer and what they had done. Of course, Harry, Malfoy, Neville and Hermione had already had this discussion, but Nott was happy to listen to it. They talked back and forth about anything and everything as Remus fell asleep with the monster cat in his lap. Hermione explained that her new darling was named Crookshanks, she had met him while accidentally stepping inside the wrong shop at Diagon Alley and absolutely had to bring him with her home. Apparently, her parents hadn't minded very much as they had owned cats and animals in the past, and to them it seemed very natural for the young witch to have what they perceived as a magical animal. 

They had travelled for a few hours when the train suddenly began to slow down. The students frowned at one another as they all knew that they weren’t yet to arrive at Hogwarts for another hour. Nott leaned forward, trying to stare out the window but it was fogging together. When he pulled back, his nose, cheek and hand left prints on the cold glass.

“Uh… that doesn’t seem normal. I think some people just entered the train but I’m not sure.” He rubbed his nose. “Is it just me or is it… getting colder?” He looked around, the other students looking around as well. They had begun to see each other’s breaths in the air. 

Then, there was a low, ominous creek as the door to a compartment a bit away began to open. Normally, that wasn’t really audible but in the cold, oppressive silence, the sound was almost deafeningly loud. Harry could feel his heart beating faster in his chest, but it felt as if he wasn’t directly aware of it, as if he could feel someone else’s heartbeat from far away. Another compartment opened, the first one closing once more. The son of a werewolf got the feeling that something was coming closer. He turned towards Hermione. 

“Wake dad.” He couldn’t do anything but whisper. 

She nodded and moved to shake the Professor awake. Crookshanks jumped off his legs, turning towards the door. The creature hissed as if to warn them. Right after the angry noise had left the cat's mouth, their door began to slide open. What had previously been an open window had turned into a foggy piece of glass, hiding whatever it was that opened the door from their view until the door was completely open. The figure which had opened the door was large, approximately three metres or so. Even Harry, who was used to his dad’s height, found it terrifyingly huge. It was covered in dark, hooded cloaks, long and ripped, with a face completely covered by its hood. The noise which was coming from it was rattling and almost pained, it sounded as if it was trying to suck in more than air with every breath. 

Harry knew instinctively that it wasn’t human. This thing had never been human. 

The son of a werewolf thought that he had understood what meeting a Dementor would be like. He thought that he understood the hopelessness, despair and fear which the creature caused in its wake, but he had been wrong. The feelings which clawed through him, the agony, regret, anxiety and terror were far worse than anything could ever have prepared him for. The creature leaned forward, slowly, deliberately, a grey, decaying and blistered hand reaching for Malfoy.

Harry wasn’t sure what would have happened if his dad hadn’t stood up at that moment. He saw the fear and terror in Malfoy’s eyes as the hand approached his face, but then, the compartment filled with a silvery light. The Dementor screamed, or at least Harry thought that it screamed. He had no other words to describe the noise it made. 

The creature retreated as Remus stepped forward, chasing it away with the magic which filled the cabin with light and warmth. The man didn’t say anything but left the compartment with a serious expression on his face, his wand still raised, emitting the same silvery light. After he had left, another Dementor scream was heard, then another. It seemed to Harry that his dad was chasing them off the train. 

He looked at the people around him. Hermione’s and Nott’s faces were both filled with tears. Neville looked pale and almost petrified, while Malfoy looked like he needed to throw up. Harry realised that he had tears in his eyes as well, but they hadn’t quite begun rolling down his cheeks yet. Everyone looked beyond devastated, even the cat seemed bothered. 

Harry slowly stood up, walking over to pull his dad’s bag down from the luggage shelf. His legs and hands were shaking but he forced himself to move for the sake of his friends. Inside the bag, he found a chocolate bar, which he began breaking to pieces and handing out to his friends. “Here. Eat this. It will help.” Nott almost dropped his piece as Harry handed it to him. 

“I… I… W-w-hat… what was that?” Hermione managed to shutter out. Her pet had come to curl up in her lap, seemingly seeking to protect her. She hugged him close while slowly eating her piece of chocolate. 

“It was so… so cold…” Neville whispered. “As if… it was hopelessness itself.” 

“That was a Dementor.” Harry breathed, handing an extra big piece to Malfoy, who had been closest to the creature with the exception of Harry himself. “They guard Azkaban Prison, uhm…” He stopped to try and remember what his dad had taught him about them. “Dementors are among the foulest creatures there are. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they thrive in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. If you get too close to a Dementor, it will suck every good emotion and every happy memory out. It will leave you with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.” Harry shuddered as he spoke of it. “They are claimed to be the perfect guards, as they leave the prisoners with no will to live and no energy to resist.” 

It was clear by the way he was talking about them that he was citing some manner of book description. Remus had encouraged his son to research the Dementors, as he had known that they would be sent to guard Hogwarts that term. However, there had been no indication that the Ministry would allow the monsters to be near the students. 

“I think dad is furious. They aren’t supposed to enter the train and bother the students.” Harry spoke up, beginning to eat some chocolate of his own. As if the train had heard him, it shook and then slowly started to move once more, yet again faithfully bringing its cargo towards Hogwarts.

“That was… I…” Malfoy mumbled, trying and failing to bite through the chocolate as it slowly melted in his fingers. 

He and Nott seemed to be far worse off than the other three in the compartment. Nott was still crying, unable to stop the tears which continued to fall down his face. He was sobbing while pushing chocolate into his mouth. Harry gave him some more chocolate before handing him the entire bar, as stuffing his face seemed to be all that kept the boy from breaking down completely. He then walked over to sit down next to Malfoy, hugging his friend. Helping others helped Harry from breaking down. He could feel that his best friend was trembling but so was he, they might as well tremble together. 

“That is what is watching over Azkaban…” Neville breathed slowly as he spoke, he was the most composed one in the room, not counting Harry who was only strong for the sake of helping those around him. “I always thought that those people in there deserved worse punishments than just being locked in, but if those things are there… I can understand why Azkaban is that feared. They still deserve it but… Yeah.” He finished weakly as Nott sobbed, causing him to gently pat his back instead of talking about the prison. 

Remus opened the door to their compartment, entering while holding a boy in his arms. Harry was immediately able to tell who it was as his dad carefully placed the passed out body of Ron Weasley down on his previous seat. “I’m sorry to chase you out, Ms. Granger, but could you bring your cat outside for a little bit? Mr. Longbottom, if you could keep her company, I’d be most grateful.” 

He turned towards Harry and Malfoy, who both were clearly shaken, even if the blonde was worse than the son of the werewolf. The father seemed to conclude that Malfoy shouldn’t walk anywhere. Seeing the way Nott curled together and cried in the corner of the compartment with his chocolate bar in his hands, Remus didn’t make any attempts to have him leave but allowed him the privacy of finding a release for his emotions. 

“What happened to Weasley?” Harry carefully turned around, looking as his dad lay the boy out on the seat which had previously been his, Harry’s and Hermione’s. 

“He passed out. Normally, I would never move someone who has passed out, but as I know the cause for it I felt it more proper to have him moved here rather than be hounded by people in his own compartment.” Remus placed his hand on the boy’s neck, checking his pulse before standing up once more. “If he wakes up, please give him some chocolate. I will go and convince the Trolley Witch to hand out chocolate and sweets for free to any students who need it. I’m sure the Headmaster will be able to pay for it…” He mumbled to himself as he moved towards the door. “I also need to check up on all the students… If I’m not back before we arrive at Hogwarts, I will come speak with you later, Harry.” 

“Don’t worry about me, dad.” The son of the werewolf smiled at his dad. “Take care of everyone.” 

The man nodded at him, a weak smile spreading over his face. “Take care too. Don’t worry about finishing my chocolate, I don’t mind.” He closed the door and disappeared out of view. 

Soon after he left, Hermione and Neville came back inside. They apparently had a short talk with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher before returning, which seemed to consist of keeping the cat away from the boy and allowing Nott some extra space upon returning. As the compartment quickly turned rather full, Harry resorted to sitting on top of Malfoy while Neville took a seat on the floor. Hermione sat between Nott and the small Slytherin pile, consisting of the two best friends.

It took a little bit for Nott to calm down, but when he did, he seemed keen to not speak about what had happened but instead make himself happy by indulging in things he found interesting. He began tinkering with a colorful cube which he had been given as a birthday present during the summer. He called it a Rubik’s cube, where the goal was to get the colorful pieces to line up on each side. 

Weasley remained passed out for quite a while. They regularly checked both his breathing and his pulse as they had learnt from Hermione’s CPR books. From what the group of young mages could tell, he was fine but sleeping. 

The red haired boy stirred about twenty or so minutes after he had been left in their compartment by Remus. Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking at the world. “...What happened?” He mumbled, trying to turn but almost fell off the seat instead. 

“Be careful, don’t move around,” Hermione was quick but careful to address him. She held onto her cat a little tighter as she spoke to him, giving the impression that she was somewhat scared of him. 

“This isn’t… where I was… why am I here?” Weasley slowly sat up, turning to find that his compartment had been replaced with this one. He was rightfully confused. “There were those… things. Their breathing… I felt as if… and then I heard… I…” He shuddered, his eyes appearing to turn wetter with every word he spoke. 

Harry slid out of Malfoy’s lap, to which the blonde boy sighed in relief to be able to move his legs again. The green eyed boy walked over to his dad’s bag, located some chocolate and handed it to the red haired boy. Weasley looked suspicious and nervous at first, but slowly reached for the piece of chocolate. 

“Why am I…?” He mumbled as he continued to stare at the piece, clearly trying to judge if he was being patronised or not. 

“You remember Professor Lupin from last year?” Harry returned his question with a question, feeling equally uncertain about being this close to the false Heir of Slytherin. 

He understood well that Weasley wasn’t solely to blame for what had happened the past year, and while Harry didn’t hold him alone responsible for what had happened, it didn’t mean that he was comfortable around the boy. The Gryffindor student’s mind had been so very poisoned by all manners of ideas and complexes that Harry wasn’t entirely comfortable with having Weasley around. Then again, Malfoy had been very unpleasant the first time they had met, and he now thought of the boy as his best friend. It was more than possible that the red haired boy could change for the better. 

However, before any of that could happen, Weasley needed to apologise to Hermione and show that he truly wanted to be better. He had yet to do that, thus nobody in the compartment really found his presence to be welcome or wanted. 

Weasley nodded at Harry’s question, beginning to eat as the chocolate was melting in his fingers. “He’s your dad. Wasn’t he Lockhart’s stand in last term?” The boy has remained in his hospital bed for most of the last term. He had probably had to struggle throughout the summer to catch up with a variety of subjects. Thus, he hadn’t explicitly met Remus, even if he had heard of him. 

The son of a werewolf confirmed his words by nodding in return. “He was. He is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. He brought you to our compartment after you passed out so that we could look after you. More chocolate?” 

“I’m fine, thanks.” Nothing about his appearance or the look on his face could be called fine, yet he denied more gifts of charity. “What was wrong with just leaving me? I bet the whole train knows I passed out by now…” He groaned, attempting and failed to get to his feet. 

“You could have been hurt, and you complain about our teacher removing you from the situation and taking you to a place where you can rest? How full of yourself can you get?” Malfoy scoffed at the other boy, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Weasley glared back. “I bet you know all about being full of yourself.”

“Everyone here made space for you so that you could recover. We didn’t put ourselves through discomfort for the sake of you complaining. People will know you passed out either way, so eat your chocolate and be thankful to the people who actually cared about you, rather than your insolent whining.” Malfoy bit back with a viciousness which told his best friend just how defensive he was about having Hermione in the same room as the boy who technically attacked her. 

“That’s quite enough!” Neville raised his voice, silencing the compartment. “Malfoy is right, but he doesn’t have to say it that way. Whenever you can walk, you can go back to your friends, but as it is now, a teacher judged this to be the best place for you, even if you don’t like it.” 

“We’re not about to have fights with one another.” Harry agreed with Neville. “You’re just here to rest, we have been tasked with looking after you for a while because dad knows that we’ve been taught how to help with people who have passed out if necessary. Dad is going through the train to help others who were affected like you, so please wait until he comes back.” The green eyed boy stopped to take a deep breath, his expression softening as he tried to focus on something else. “In the meantime, why don’t you tell us about your summer?” 

“My… summer?” Weasley blinked at him, staring as if Harry had grown a second head. 

“Yeah, did something fun happen?” Harry continued, trying to encourage the boy to speak so that they may have something more pleasant to busy their minds with. 

“Weren’t you and your family in the newspaper?” Nott spoke up properly for the first time in a long while. 

“Oh, uh, yeah…” Weasley stopped to compose himself. “My dad has been struggling to get this Muggle Protection Act passed, and he finally managed. There was a huge uproar around it and we ended up in the newspaper after an interview with dad. For a while our place was practically crawling with journalists, that was until mom hexed a watering can to have them leave us alone.” 

“I’m glad that act finally came to pass.” Malfoy agreed, causing the red haired boy to stare at him as if he had grown two heads this time.

“What? Do you think I’m against protecting Muggles from magical artifacts?” Malfoy scoffed when Nott gave him an equally conflicted look. “Then allow me to remind you both that I don’t want Muggles to realise that the Wizarding World exists. If they did, who knows how they could try and misuse magic for their own gain? Even Salazar Slytherin feared their power, capability and hunger for more power. I’d be a fool to place my own temporary convenience above that of our society’s safety and progression.” 

“...Great speech.” Nott applauded, causing Malfoy to shoot him a deadly look. “Uh, no, I do mean it.”

“Slytherin feared Muggles? I thought he hated them?” Weasley blinked at Malfoy. 

The blonde wizard stretched, sitting with far more proper posture, preparing himself for a history lecture. Harry got to his feet and took a seat next to Weasley, looking over at his friend with great interest. After some short hesitation, Neville joined them on the row of seats. Malfoy thoroughly explain what he had learned about the Slytherin founder of Hogwarts. He had researched further what he had learned from the Headmaster and was now more than competent in the subject to explain it to his fellow classmates. Harry and Hermione enjoyed the lecture immensely, Neville tried to follow it but was struggling somewhat. Weasley began with a skeptical look on his face, but was beyond convinced by the end of it, the look on his face wasn’t entirely unlike what Malfoy had looked like upon first receiving the information himself. Nott was completely disinterested, and continuously playing with his cube. 

“In conclusion, our society is very young and currently very dependent on the achievements of individual mages. It is not unusual that a single mage tampers with unknown forces to create something they might not fully control or understand, because we truly do not understand the force of magic as well as we would like to think. For any young society, laws and legal acts are essential to keep order and ensure the safety of people, and the Muggle Protection Act is just that. It is evidence of our society progressing.” 

Malfoy seemed more than a little satisfied with himself, and was more than content to answer questions for the rest of the train ride towards Hogwarts. Hermione had quite a few questions, and even Ron spoke up once or twice. Harry was beyond impressed to hear all which the Pureblood boy had learnt over the summer. The atmosphere became altogether less tense as they were discussing facts rather than opinions, and a subject interesting enough to temporarily forget the horrors of the Dementors. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **The Muggle Protection Act**  
>  The act didn't pass in its full due to powerful mages within the Ministry wanting to protect themselves, but as of currently, the act has passed in a sense where magical artifacts have to be stored far more securely, and there will be heavy consequences of not storing them properly. This as well as evaluating very specific artifacts to be seen as too dangerous to keep. The dangers are regarding the harm the artifact could do to people, the harm it could do in the wrong hands, as well as how much said artifact risks to expose their society. 
> 
> Lucius Malfoy will not have to give up his storage of artifacts, as will very few mages, as long as that storage is kept safe and away from the outside world. He was very lucky the diary incident happened before the act passed. 
> 
> **Flying cars**  
>  In our canon, Arthur Weasley has not enchanted his Ford to fly, as it would be the exact kind of magical artifact which he has worked so thoroughly to prevent in the first place.


	6. Chapter 5 - In which Sybill Trelawney prophecies the death of a student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The class before this was your newly elected subjects, was it not?” Professor McGonnagall sighed. “Allow me to be frank, who in Divination class is prophesied to die this year?” 

“Hello, friends, this is the first time we meet at the beginning of the year!” Harry cheerfully greeted the gloomy skeleton horses, which stood almost immobile before the carriages which brought them to and from Hogwarts. This was indeed Harry’s first time meeting them in the beginning of his school year, as he had only encountered them on the way back from Hogwarts. “Have you missed me?” He held out his hand to allow one of them to carefully sniff him. 

Harry had never really been frightened by the creatures. He supposed that he might have been if he had come to encounter them without knowing what they were, but as he had read _Hogwarts: A History_ , he had been more than prepared for the possibility that they existed, and that he might be able to see them. He had first come face to face with a thestral when he returned home for the Holidays during his first year at Hogwarts. He had been somewhat uncomfortable when he saw them. The way their black flesh clung to their skeleton bodies, showing no muscle structure when they moved, had made them appear sick to the boy. The white pupil-less eyes had added to the appearance of something unhealthy and sick, something which desperately needed food and to be cared for better. Although Harry’s instincts still told him that they needed to be fed, his mind had come to accept that the creatures were not as eerie and sinister as they might look. 

For a long time, Harry had kept quiet about the thestrals. He had pretended that he didn’t really see them and simply stepped into the carriage instead. However, his friends were far too good friends at this point for him to worry about them declaring him insane from seeing a well documented creature whose contributions to the Hogwarts carriage system was commonly known, if one only knew where to look for it. 

“I’m not sure you should let it sniff you, it might think you’re food.” To Harry’s great surprise, Nott spoke up behind him, keeping his wounded hand tucked into his pocket so as to not tempt the meat eating horse-reptiles with the scent of his cut. 

Harry turned towards him, unable to not smile as he realised that his fellow Slytherin was able to see the strange beasts as well. “You can see them too?” He immediately felt a little guilty over his excitement, as it meant that Nott had more likely than not seen somebody die. Unlike Harry, he might not be as lucky as to not remember it clearly. 

“Yeah.” Nott stared at the creatures with a distant look on his face before he smiled and shrugged. “Nasty looking things. I thought I had gone insane at first.” 

“So did I…” Neville joined into their talk, looking at the reptile-horses with anxiety in his eyes, a smile played on his lips, adding to the misery which his expression silently testified of. 

“What are you talking about?” Malfoy’s annoyed, demanding voice broke into the conversation, managing to shatter the uncomfortable feeling which clouded the air around them. “You’re staring out into space and looking melancholic, it is somewhat weird.” Part of his annoyance seemed to come from the fact that he wasn’t included. 

“They can see thestrals.” Hermione carefully explained to the blonde wizard. She was only hesitant since she didn’t know how uncomfortable the boys in question were about seeing a creature whose very shape was hidden from those who did not know death. 

“Are you getting into the carriage or not?” A line had formed behind them as Harry had ended up stopping a little too long by the carriages. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, alongside some other Gryffindor students had grown tired of waiting, thus deciding to push the group to either enter or move aside. Weasley had remained with Harry’s group when the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher never returned to their compartment to send him away. When he saw his friends, he sheepishly moved over to their side, seemingly shrinking about a decimeter behind them. 

“Go ahead, we’re waiting for someone.” Harry showed towards the carriage, allowing the other students to get in and leave. 

Harry was waiting for his dad. He had informed his friends beforehand that he wanted to make sure the man was alright after being exposed to so much work before even arriving at Hogwarts due to the Dementors’ search of the train. What he didn’t mention to his friends was that tonight was a night of full moon. It was already stressful for Remus to simply travel during those days, to have an entire train rely on his help after a traumatising scenario wasn’t exactly the most ideal day for an already stressed werewolf. Harry wanted to make certain that his dad was fine before he was comfortable with making his way to Hogwarts. 

“Will you be alright waiting for him alone?” Hermione asked carefully. She seemed to be cold, trembling slightly in the chill September air. 

“I’ll be fine.” Harry assured her. 

“No, you will not.” Malfoy objected, staring at Harry as if he was doing something wrong. It took the boy a second before realising what his best friend was getting at. Malfoy huffed and continued speaking, “we are not supposed to be alone or place ourselves in a vulnerable position. Professor Lupin will be fine on his own, you can see him from the safety of the castle.” 

Harry’s cheeks heated with embarrassment as he realised just what a big mistake he had just been about to make. “I’m sorry… You’re right, we’ll take the next carriage together. Dad wouldn’t want me to wait for him as it is now.” 

Harry, Malfoy, Hermione, Neville and Nott entered their carriage, as Harry leaned forward to look back at the station, he couldn’t help but feel just a little guilty of leaving his dad on his own. 

  
  


The sorting ceremony had seemed so utterly momentous to Harry when he had begun at Hogwarts. It was the kind of event which was so significant to the person in question that forgetting it seemed impossible. However, as Harry watched the far off little shapes of people sit down on a chair in front of a sea of people clad in green, blue, red and yellow, he came to realise that however significant it was to those little specks of people, it truly was nothing special to an onlooker. He recalled feeling as if the world was watching him, collectively holding its breath for him, but as he saw the whole ceremony from his own House table, it was undeniable that the world really didn’t care all that much. Of course, he and his friends applauded politely for every student who got sorted, applauding a little louder for the ones who joined their House, but all it all, it really was like listening to the radio station about a town he didn’t know in a country he had never heard of. 

The sorting ceremony finished, leading to the Headmaster standing up for a speech. The people who had been continuously exposed to frightening speech after speech last year immediately looked somewhat uncomfortable to see the man standing. The man seemed to taste their sour memories in the air, thus, as he walked to the podium in front of the people gathered, he clapped his hands, causing every source of light to dim. 

A murmur passed through the Hall as the sky in the ceiling seemed to slowly sink towards the floor, bringing with it brilliant constellations and bright stars. The students found themselves sitting in a sea of stars, as if the pure, untouched pieces of the universe had come to greet them. Silvery white, brilliant purples, pinks and blues, soothing lilac, and magenta mixed the colors of the heavens all around the students. The colors were beautiful and strong without clashing violently in ways which would irritate the eye or mind. Everything was slowly moving, spinning or shifting in calm and serene patterns of movements. Some people reached out towards a star or a cluster of space dust, only to have their hands sink through the illusion without touching anything. The magically displayed projection of the sky passed through everything, making no attempt to hide that it wasn’t real, but it was a beautiful and impressive display of magic. 

Professor Dumbledore moved his hands towards himself, and like it was heeding the call of its Master, the magic illusion moved towards him, running softly like a river. It gathered in a softly spinning vortex in his raised hands which he raised above his head, on full display for every student. For a few seconds, the old wizard held the universe in his hands. There was a soft pulse of light, then everything turned dark before Dumbledore raised his hands higher. The universe in his hands flew upwards in a strong, steady stream, coloring the ceiling once more as if the wizard was pouring paint upwards. There was another throb of soft, silver starlight which reminded the viewer of the magic of a patronus, then the lights in the Great Hall returned to their full strength, and all was as it had been before the old wizard stepped up to his podium. 

The applause which followed was immense, it seemed to shake the pillars and beams high above the students heads, making the candles shake. The old wizard smiled, softly waving their applause away while also accepting their cheers. It was clear to Harry that the man had most likely displayed his powers in a way to calm his students down, rather than trying to prove himself as great. If he had wanted to be impressive, he likely wouldn’t have used such a serene display of power. This had been to soothe, not to shock or awe. The impression left by the serene magic helped the students recall that this year was not the same as the last, that they would no longer need to fear for every statement made by the Headmaster.

“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts, welcome back to most of you, welcome here for the first time, and welcome home to those of you who think of Hogwarts as your home. We are all excited to see you here.” He smiled at the students, looking much like a proud grandfather who had longed for his extended family to return to him. 

“As you sadly discovered on the way here, the Ministry of Magic has sent protection to the school in the form of Dementors. I have been promised that they will in no way interfere with the daily life here at Hogwarts. While it was most assuredly not welcome that they stopped the Hogwarts Express, at the very least you now know of them. I shall make a formal complaint to the Ministry about this transgression. The incident at the Hogwarts Express was by no means acceptable and the Ministry has to make certain to keep proper watch over their guards. I ask that each and every one of you remain cautious if there is any risk that you might find yourself close to a Dementor. They should not trespass on Hogwarts grounds, and therefore we ask the students to not try to venture too far outside, and to remain on Hogwarts grounds unless accompanied by a teacher. Hogsmeade visits shall still be permitted, but we shall have teachers accompany you there and back in groups for the sake of safety.” He paused to let his words sink in before continuing.

“A dangerous man has escaped from Azkaban this year, the first person to ever have done so in modern memory. The man is named Sirius Black. He is enough of a threat to the Wizarding World that the Minister of Magic has deemed it necessary to send the Dementors here to protect you. Black might not be coming to Hogwarts at all, but for the sake of your protection, this is the course of action which has been deemed the best by the Minister and the Hogwarts Board of Governors.” There was another pause, during which some students whispered back and forth. 

Harry looked towards Malfoy, who returned his look. The two of them knew that they were personally likely to be in danger from Black but this response to the escapee was rather extreme. Harry Potter was an icon of the Wizarding World, he was someone whose death could cause immense effects in the society they lived in, but that didn’t explain why the Ministry itself reacted so very strongly to the threat of Black while they did almost nothing during most of the Chamber of Secrets event. 

Perhaps they were reacting so very strongly because of the heavy criticism of being unable to protect the children of the Wizarding World last year. Everyone seemed to know what Black had done to the Potters, thus, everyone seemed to be paranoid that the madman was coming towards Hogwarts to get to Harry. Judging by the number of innocent people who had lost their lives as Black killed Peter Pettigrew, it wasn’t unthinkable that many parents likely feared that their children might become collateral as Black tried to get to Harry. 

“In other news, I have the great honor to introduce two new members of the staff this year.” The Headmaster continued to speak, looking far more excited about what he was about to say next as he turned towards the teaching table. “Professor Silvanus Kettleburn has chosen to retire from his position as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, as he wishes to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. In his stead, I have the great joy to announce to you that his position shall be filled by none other than our Rubeus Hagrid.” 

The Great Hall quickly filled with applause. Next to Harry, both Crabbe and Goyle screamed loudly in support, banging their hands on the table, causing the Slytherin table to shake with their enthusiasm. The rest of their friends did their best to cheer equally, but the two big boys had them beaten. Hagrid stood up after encouragement from Professor McGonagall, almost causing the teacher’s table to flip over. Harry saw how Professor Snape caught his own drink before it could fall over, catching it as if it was the most natural and practiced thing he had ever done. Remus didn’t quite manage to catch his, neither did most other people by the table. 

“Next, I have the pleasure to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Remus Lupin.” As the Headmaster continued to speak, Remus stood up, facing the Great Hall’s applause. Harry applauded until his hands hurt, as did Malfoy. Over by the Gryffindor table, Hermione and Neville applauded with equal enthusiasm. Most people who had met the man during the train ride applauded very enthusiastically as well. Remus stood slightly awkwardly, accepting the applause, as the teachers around him were trying to clean their table up with magic. 

“Most of you met him during your ride here to Hogwarts, as he dealt with the Dementors who boarded the Express. Upon my request, Professor Lupin shall be holding a non-compulsory class of Dementor handling. More details will follow, but students who do choose to participate will be instructed in how to cast the Patronus Charm. There will be no real Dementors present.” The old wizard finished. 

“With all this in mind, let the festivities begin!” The man cheered as he clapped his hands. The plates, jars, jugs and bottles on the tables filled with food and drink, inviting the tired students to forget their worries and concerns in favor of simply enjoying themselves. 

Harry noticed that his dad only stayed for a few minutes after the feast began, quickly retiring within less than an hour of coming to Hogwarts. The boy watched his dad leave, aching to hurry after him and say good night, but also not wanting anyone to notice that Remus had left. 

Now that the festivities had actually begun, Harry could finally talk to the friends whom he hadn’t managed to meet during the train ride. It was exciting to speak to hear what they had been up to during the break and what had changed in their life. 

Blaise had a calm summer, according to himself. He had grown even more handsome over the break, and had grown taller as well. Harry couldn’t tell who was the taller between him and Malfoy, but he got the feeling that it was Blaise. His voice had turned somewhat darker, but as if to combat itself, it had also gotten smoother, like his spun silk through his lips with every word. 

Crabbe and Goyle had both gotten more defined. What was previously round and soft, caused by overindulgence in sweets seemed to become less soft and more defined. Crabbe’s face in particular was becoming more square-ish than round, while Goyle’s seemingly seemed to become more heart shaped. Further, Crabbe looked stronger than before. He was saying how he was interested in joining the Quidditch team this year and had begun working out for the position of Beater. 

Parkinson had lost some of her younger looking features, she was clearly starting to go from a girl to a woman. She was wearing a thin layer of makeup to hide that her skin had started to trouble her with some pimples. Not that the bad skin hid the fact that her features were becoming more defined as well. She was mostly silent but after some coaxing by Crabbe, she admitted that she had been working out too as she was interested in securing a position as Chaser for her House team. 

Both aspiring Quidditch players were encouraged by Malfoy and Harry to try out for the team, while Nott promised to invent some manner of thing with which to cheer for them louder and more efficiently than normal cheering. Blaise slowly licked his lips at the notion of another one of the boy’s inventions, but settled on not saying anything. 

All in all, it was a great first evening, although Harry couldn’t help but think of his dad, alone in his office, locked away from the world and Hogwarts due to a cruel curse which poisoned his life. He decided to bring him food from the Great Hall first thing the next morning, even if it meant getting up early and bothering his friends for a bit. He had once again forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone. 

Luckily for Harry, Malfoy hadn’t forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to wander school alone. The next morning, he argued that they should wait and see if Remus showed up at breakfast before going to see him, Harry had to yield as to not reveal his dad’s secret by accident. After that, their first lesson was in the complete opposite direction to his dad’s office, leaving the boy no choice but to promise himself to visit his dad later that day. 

The year began with Potion class with the Hufflepuff students, led by Professor Snape. As he sat down to listen to the class, Harry realised that the Professor in front of him had once dated his dad. It had been brief, as Remus insisted on reminding him, but the man had seen the werewolf and not shied away from the teenager who was suffering from the curse. Harry had respected the man before the knowledge of his past with his dad, and he had respected the man ever more after he was told about the way he had helped his dad. However, to actually have the man in front of him, living, breathing proof that the werewolf had been loved by someone who wasn’t Harry or his friends made the son of a werewolf immensely happy. In fact, he was so happy that Professor Snape commented on his grin and told him to focus on work rather than smiling. Uncharacteristically, the man wasn't looking directly at Harry as he reprimanded him.

After Potion class came Charms with the Ravenclaw students, led by Professor Flitwick. He greeted them cheerfully and told them that their first spell was going to be the Cheering Charm. Nott almost slammed his fists down into the desk with excitement, his face lit up with mischievous energy. 

“Teach me the art of cheeriness, Master!” The boy yelled from the back of the class, causing some of the students to laugh and some others to roll their eyes. 

“Good initiative, Mr. Nott! Five points to Slytherin for your enthusiasm.” Professor Flitwick clapped his hands and curled his sleeves up. “As you are so eager, will you be so kind as to demonstrate the effects of the charm to the class?” 

“I was born ready.” Nott jumped up and hurried to the front of the class. He was always eager about Charms, and there were whispers that he was the only Slytherin student who the Charms Professor really liked, as he was enthusiastic about the more obscure and less practical spells while most students lost interest unless the spell itself was impressive. The Charms Professor was the type of man who strongly believed that all magic could be useful in the right situation and who would be displeased when any certain type of magic or spell was dismissed for not being universally useful in every situation. 

Lunch came, allowing Harry and his friends to sit with Hermione and Neville. Blaise was glad to see his intellectual friend while Crabbe and Goyle immediately began talking to Neville. Their discussion quickly turned to Quidditch where it came up that Neville was trying out as a Chaser for Gryffindor that year. The conversation slowly drew Parkinson in, who found that she could talk to Neville about Quidditch without feeling too weird about it. 

“What subjects do you have after lunch?” Harry asked everyone, as it was their first lesson with their newly picked subjects, he was curious to learn where everyone was going. 

“Divination.” Neville said. “It’s apparently up in one of the towers, you have to climb a ladder to get up there.” The boy’s expression told them all what he thought of the idea of climbing a ladder. His acceptance and enjoyment of flying hadn’t changed the fact that he didn’t feel very secure in the mounting of a ladder. 

“A ladder… oh no.” Goyle sighed. “I’m taking Divination too.” Crabbe and Parkinson nodded to show that they were taking the subject also. 

“I have Arithmancy.” Nott spoke in turn. 

“I have Ancient Runes.” Blaise spoke. 

“Me too.” Harry grinned. 

“How nice, it’s been a while since I had you as my partner.” Blaise smiled at Harry, who grinned back as well. 

“I have Muggle Studies.” Malfoy stated causing Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise, Parkinson and Nott to stare at him. His cheeks turned a little red as he avoided their eyes. “Whatever are you staring at me for?” 

“You are taking Muggle Studies?” Nott blinked at him. “But you’re… I mean, not to be rude but… you’re, like… you.” 

“Very informative, Teddy.” Blaise sighed at his friend. “What he means to say is that you are a Pureblood wizard whose family is known to be very anti Muggles and Muggle-borns. For you to take Muggle Studies is quite surprising. None of us are saying that to be mean, but we are surprised.” 

“Well, I’m not anti any of that anymore. I happen to have been wrong about everything in regards to blood purity and magic and have changed my views. Did you somehow miss that?” Malfoy was clearly trying to approach the situation in a matter-of-factly manner, but it was clear to Harry that he was nervous about it.

The other Slytherin students exchanged looks with one another, but nobody said anything.

“Yeah,“ Harry agreed with a grin. “He had a whole character arc about that last year.”

“He did.” Neville agreed, following in on the joke that Malfoy would be some sort of character in a story-line rather than a real person. “Thanks to me being bad at magic, he had to revise all his belief in magic being dependent on your blood.” He grinned with a smug look on his face, looking satisfied with himself. 

Malfoy turned even redder as he lightly pushed Harry with his elbow while addressing Neville. “Oh shush it Longbottom. Granger was far more of an impact in my change of mind.” 

Hermione blushed in turn. “I’m having Muggle studies with Malfoy this year, as he asked of me.” 

“I will trust nobody else.” Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest huffing to hide his embarrassment. 

“If you keep on huffing like that, you might turn into a Hufflepuff.” Nott grinned at him, causing the blonde wizard to aim a light kick at his shin. Behind Nott, Crabbe and Goyle exchanged nervous looks with one another, as if Malfoy could actually become a Hufflepuff based on his newfound interest in Muggle Studies.

“I will die before I wear yellow.” Malfoy hissed with such viciousness that only Blaise and Harry dared laughing at his words. 

“Either way, didn’t you pick all the extra subjects?” Harry turned towards Hermione, who was absently playing with her hair, while the Slytherin students squabbled with one another. “If you have Muggle studies now, when will you have Ancient Runes and… the rest.” He failed to recall the name of the Arithmancy class, instead waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. 

“The classes are divided into smaller groups so that it will fit into more people’s schedules.” Hermione explained. “I will have Arithmancy when you have Care of Magical Creature, and I’m joining an advanced course of Ancient Runes to be allowed to take that subject as well. I won’t be learning advanced runes yet, but at least be able to study in class with a Professor.” She sighed, taking a deep breath before resting her head in her hands. “I was called aside by Professor McGongall this morning so that she could speak to me about my subjects. I was informed that they cannot in good conscience allow me to take five extra classes. Even if I could manage it this year, it will only add more and more to my schedule for every year. Professor McGonagall said that I will burn myself out faster than a fiendfyre lit candle.” 

She drank some water before continuing. “After some discussion, she advised that study heavy subjects like Ancient Runes and Arithmancy combined would be very heavy as it is, but that she would allow me to pick one more subject if I truly felt like I wanted to. If I had been willing to drop one of those subjects, she would have allowed me to study four new subjects, but as I really wanted both of those, I could only pick one more.” She twirled her hair between her fingers, smiling down at her own plate. “And I promised my friend to pick Muggle Studies so… yeah.” While she had looked disappointed that she wasn’t allowed to work herself to the breaking point, she did look happy about taking Muggle Studies with Malfoy.

“Young Mr. Lupin?” A voice addressed him, causing Harry to look for the owner of the voice. Above him stood a witch, her hair removed from her face and kept secure by a decorated hair clip. She was dressed in wine red clothing, she looked both dignified and strict. Her gaze made Harry feel like she was just as likely to speak Galwegian Gaelic or Cornish to him as she was to speak English. Harry caught himself nodding at her inquiry. “I am Bathsheda Babbling, your Ancient Runes teacher. I shall escort you to your class, if you are ready to leave, so we shall.” 

“Uh, y-yes Professor.” Harry nodded once more, standing up to join her. Blaise rose as well. 

“Ms. Granger.” Professor Babbling nodded towards the girl. “I shall see you on Wednesday evening. Bring your books, quill and ink, nothing more needs to be prepared for the first class.” Hermione responded by nodding. 

The Ancient Runes Professor was both intimidating and dignified in a way which reminded Harry of Narcissa Malfoy. As she swept around, there was no other choice left to Harry and Blaise but to follow her. 

“Harry. Dear friend of mine.” Blaise suddenly leaned in to almost whisper to Harry while they walked through the corridors, looking at him with stern eyes as a dry tone poisoned his words. Harry looked up at his friend like a guilty puppy. Blaise’s dry yet smooth voice gently slithered around his throat, making it hard to breathe. The boy was beautiful, but when he was that close, he was so distracting that he seemed to steal the air from around him. Like some manner of non-happiness stealing, yet breath stealing, Dementor. “Whatever is trying to kill you this year? Should I switch to Arithmancy before I’m dragged into something I don’t want any part of?”

Harry licked his lips, avoiding the boy’s dark, endless eyes. “Well… Sirius Black seems to have assisted in the murder of my birth parents and might possibly be seeking revenge on me for some insane madman reason because I definitely murdered his Dark Lord?” Harry confessed, shrugging as he avoided looking at his beautiful friend. 

“Of course he is…” Blaise sighed, softly clicking his tongue. “And of course you did.” 

“Are you planning on avoiding me all year again?” Harry hesitated to ask, but it felt easier to know beforehand, as to not find himself in the same situation as last year, where he had wanted to blame Blaise for his abandonment but knew that he didn’t have the right to. 

Blaise shook his head. “I’m not planning on doing anything that dramatic unless you become a danger to me by proxy.” He smiled, then reached out and ruffled Harry’s hair. “Don’t look so happy. You know that my own self-preservation comes before anything else.” The boy was definitely taller than Malfoy, Harry was certain now that he walked next to him. 

“As it should.” Harry grinned back. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want based on your needs, including running away as soon commitment shows its head.” 

Blaise groaned. “You’re right. You’re right. Nothing as scary as commitment.” He shook his head. “I’m…” He sighed. “I’m a little sorry that I’m not a better friend, but I also don’t really care that much.”

“Malfoy would think you sound like an arse.” Harry chuckled. “But I get it, really. I have friends, friends who would clearly stick with me through thick and thin. I don’t need you to selflessly sacrifice for me. We can still be friends without that.” 

The handsome boy smiled, the expression enhancing his features all the more. “I see why they call you the voice of reason.” 

“Only Neville calls me that.” Harry objected. “And only occasionally.” 

“We clearly need to make that your new official nickname.” Blaise chuckled. 

Whatever answer Harry had been prepared to give was lost as their teacher turned around towards them. “If you are finished discussing your private matters, this is my classroom.” She entered, prompting the boys to follow her. 

The class was interesting, but complex. Harry knew that Ancient Runes was like learning a completely new language, but he hadn’t quite expected what that new language would be quite so complex. It was interesting and a little overwhelming at once. 

Returning to the more familiar subject of Transfiguration was all the more rewarding after the complicated Ancient Runes class. Professor McGonagall welcomed both the Slytherin and Gryffindor students into her classroom. For a while, the lesson proceeded without any real incident, but it was becoming increasingly clear that some of her students seemed distant, anxious and quiet. The woman didn’t react to it at first, even if she did notice the strange air in her classroom. However, after twenty minutes had passed with most of her students being so distracted that they could barely lift their wands, the Professor found no other choice but to ask. 

“I do not mean to sound demanding but the air in here is as heavy as at a funeral.” She placed her hands on her hips, looking over her students. Some gasped as she had mentioned funeral, covering their mouths and glancing towards Ron Weasley, who looked like he was going to throw up. The Professor looked around at them, some students looked just as confused as Harry felt but it seemed that the woman had had a realisation. 

“The class before this was your newly elected subjects, was it not?” She sighed. “Allow me to be frank, who in Divination class is prophesied to die this year?” 

A buzz went through the room as the students who did not take Divination looked between one another to confirm that they were just as clueless, while the Divination students looked between shocked and suspicious. Some managed to pull off both looks at once. 

“Me.” Weasley’s voice was but a thick, subtle whisper, yet he was heard all around the silent classroom. 

“Ah, Mr. Weasley.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “I understand that it must be frightening to have your death prophesied, but let me assure you that Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of a student every year since she was hired. From what I know, none has yet to die. Do not allow yourself to live in fear of death, it will come to you one day no matter if you fear it or not. To lose yourself in the regrets of death at such a young age will do you no good.” 

She didn’t dwell on the subject, but she did realise that many of her students had been weighed down by the thought of the inevitability of death. Instead of insisting to hold her class when they were not able to concentrate on her words, she walked around to turn the desks into various breeds of dogs and had the students guess what type they were. Those who did not like dogs were allowed to stand back, but those who liked them were allowed to pet the animals to their heart's content. Harry for one happily dived into the pile to pet the fluffiest dogs he could find. Professor McGonagall had to make certain to remove all fur from her students before letting them out of her classroom, but that was easily done with magic. Her students had clearly needed the distraction more than the lesson. Since it was the first day, the Professor allowed them comfort over adhering to the schedule.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **Thestrals**  
>  There is a difference between understanding death and accepting death; it could be said to be impossible to fully understand death. Further, there is a difference between accepting death, and accepting the presence of death in our lives. 
> 
> In many societies, we often ignore death and remove it from our minds, and even when we experience the loss of people near us it is still commonly affecting people to feel like the person in question has disappeared or gone away. It seems generally hard for the human mind to accept the finality of death, and to accept that it is a constant presence in our lives, and part of what makes us alive in the first place. 
> 
> Thestrals in our work are seen by those who have actively accepted their own mortality, and come to terms with the presence of death in all living. Further, to see the creatures, logical acceptance is not enough; the body and mind cannot block out the reality of its mortality.
> 
> This is most easily achieved by being present at the moment of death for someone or something related to oneself. The experience allows for a physical reality and acceptance for body and mind. However, there are other ways to see thestrals. One of the ways would be a near death experience, making the individual realise their own mortality fully, if they do not have the reaction of fearing and blocking it out even more because of the experience. Another way could be to interact closer with the concept and actively think about death and mortality more than the average individual of today. Other experiences such as living through a war could lead to seeing thestrals as well. 
> 
> We debated back and forth whether or not our Harry would see thestrals, and lastly settled on that he does. This is partly because of existing evidence for children at infant-age still being affected by trauma and bodily memories they do not remember consciously, as well as growing up to accept that his life might be in constant danger. He has grown up to accept the presence of death as well as to appreciate life all the more. 
> 
> Historically, we imagine that thestrals used to be seen by more people, and be more common. There is historical imagery of living dead horses in various mythology and folklore. 
> 
> We imagine it to be a rather recent situation that thestrals are forgotten and not experienced in Britain, as in, for the past few centuries. The reason for this is that mortality and death used to be a large part of everyday life, and families themselves tended to the bodies of their dead relatives until burials. In a relatively short time span of history, many cultures have forgotten that death is something present, natural and real in our lives, rather than something to be feared and to avoid thinking about. A part of this change is the now existing funeral industry which removes the caring of dead bodies from the household and to professionals, as well as many more people dying at hospitals rather than in their own homes. 
> 
> If anyone is curious about the relationship with death in various cultures and historical periods, we recommend the very informative Youtuber [Ask A Mortician.](https://www.youtube.com/user/OrderoftheGoodDeath)
> 
> **The Wizarding World**  
>  While the mage society of Britain, probably just like other mage societies across the world, uses fancy titles and impressive names, 'The Wizarding World' refers to the secret society of mages, currently the one in Britain. It's a far greater name than what is actually there, since the different societies aren't actually connected to one another in any fluent and constant ways.


	7. Chapter 6 - In which Remus Lupin revises the House point system

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Before I begin my first lesson, I have a few things to go over with you.” Remus continued, he walked over to the chalkboard and pulled it over to reveal the backside, which had something written on it. 

“Good morning, students.”

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher smiled at his class, looking over them from his position next to the chalkboard. Harry grinned at his dad from the front seat, trying to encourage him by being there and being excited for what his dad was about to teach them. Remus had spotted him, and returned the smile. 

The man was dressed like he usually was, in older clothing which was tattered but still clean. His choice of clothing made him very suited for his Professor title, his hair was not styled but still not messy. Other than his scars and tall frame, there was nothing truly outstanding about him, yet he seemed kind and welcoming in a way which not many teachers were. Some students recognised him from last term, but nobody really knew what to expect from the friendly Professor. 

Those who had connected the new teacher’s name with Harry’s expected him to likely favor Slytherin to an unfair extent, but other than that, most rumors seemed to be concerned about the man’s scars. Harry hadn’t been asked anything about his dad, other than having Parkinson confirm that the two Lupins truly were father and son. 

“I am Professor Lupin. I’ve studied Defense Against the Dark Arts for many years now, as I am sure you can tell, it has left its scars on me.” He remained still as he introduced himself, other than showing towards his face as he talked, smoothly addressing the scars while also dismissing them. “Some of you might remember me from last year, if you don’t, do not be alarmed, I have left my name on the board so that you may sneak a peek should your memory fail you.” 

“Before I begin my first lesson, I have a few things to go over with you.” Remus continued, he walked over to the chalkboard and pulled it over to reveal the backside, which had something written on it. 

_Any relevant question: 1 point_

_Advanced question: 5 points_

_Correct answer: 2 points_

_Advanced answer: 5 points_

_Any passed exam/test/grading assignment: 5 points_

_Disruption of class: - 5 points_

_Rude behavior: - 5 points_

_Any discrimination: -10 points_

The Professor was silent for a while, allowing the students to read through what he had written on the board. Some students began to whisper to one another, while others exchanged confused or even worried looks. Harry was grinning wider than he ever had in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class. 

“Allow me to explain, as I can see and understand your confusion. I believe the Hogwarts points system to be dated, a system which rewards previously gained knowledge, rather than celebrating the gaining of that knowledge. In my teaching, I seek to be open and honest with you, and I want to reward you in your pursuit of learning. I will try my best to avoid any form of removal of points, only doing so if the individual is continuing the disruptive behavior after explicitly being told to stop. However, any case of discrimination, based on blood, House, magic ability or other perceived fault or weakness will be punished by removal of points.” 

“Thus, allow me to explain what my other list means. Any relevant question will be given one point, no matter how small or insignificant it might seem to you, I want to encourage it being asked. However, I will not reward irrelevant questions which might even disrupt the class. Sadly, asking me how my day has been will not reward you any points.” He smiled at the class, whereas some people chuckled. Harry beamed brighter, happy to find that his dad was handling teaching very well so far. 

“An advanced question is a question which enhances the discussion. For example, if we were to discuss current politics, asking about the newly passed Muggle Protection Act does add to the conversation, is relevant, and important to discuss as it is a new Act and therefore new to our minds. A disruptive question would be to ask about lunch during such a discussion. In my classroom, there is never a wrong question. You will not be punished for asking a disruptive question, although I would prefer if the discussion could be focused on the current topic. Once again, any question is in most cases welcome. If you don’t understand, do ask. If you do understand but want to know more, continue to ask. The key to learning is to ask and to communicate. Books and literature are wonderful tools of learning, but without communication and discussion, it is very hard to keep that knowledge in your head.” 

Next to Harry, Hermione looked somewhat frightened by the idea that books weren’t her most useful tool for learning. 

“Any correct answer will be given two points. I do want to encourage you to speak the answers you have found. If they happen to not be the answer I am looking for, then it could still be very useful for a discussion, or for someone else in the classroom. If the answer is exactly what I was looking for, and continues to give more information which is useful for the discussion and the topic, I will reward it with more points.”

“Finally, any passed grading assignment, test or exam will grant your House 5 points. It does not matter what other grading the assignment got, as long as it passed, you will receive points for it.” Remus turned towards his class, smiling. “Now then, any questions before I continue with my lesson?” 

Hermione raised her hand, her expression a tense look of nervousness and discomfort. “I’m sorry, Professor Lupin, but your methods will disproportionately increase the points which we can receive this year, not to mention create a cheat for victory in the House Cup.” 

The man nodded at her words, seeming completely calm. “Yes, I will indeed give you all a cheat for the House Cup, one which you are all free to use and abuse if you so will. You could also consider whether this provides an equal means to that of all students, rather than points given with the bias of an individual teacher's preferences. However, you might find that the Cup matters less than you might originally think. If your only reason to learn is to win a temporary Cup which truly doesn’t matter for any more than one day of your life, perhaps you should reevaluate why you learn.” He looked over the classroom, clearly not trying to lecture or shame Hermione for her question, neither was he trying to make anyone else feel ashamed, yet it was an important viewpoint to mention. “Five points to Gryffindor.” He smiled at her, causing her to blush and hide in her hair. 

“Professor?” Nott raised his hand. “Are you doing this whole thing to prove to us that the points system is outdated and should be reformed?”

The werewolf’s eyes gleamed as he smiled. “While I do think the system is outdated and unfairly shaped, my main goal is to give you all a chance to be rewarded for your learning without having to worry about the House Cup. Five points to Slytherin. Are there any more questions?”

Some people seemed to try and think really hard about anything which they might be able to ask, but nobody came up with anything. Harry tried his best to think of something, but the explanation had been good enough that he didn’t feel like he had any questions. 

Malfoy raised his hand, and politely waited for the signal to speak. “Then Professor, does that mean there are no regulations as to how to teach these subjects at all? Are we entirely dependent on the competence of our teacher?” The boy sounded very formal, clearly trying to phrase his question intellectually, perhaps as to make certain for it to be an advanced question. Harry didn’t think that was necessary, since it seemed to be a very relevant question.  
  
His dad clearly thought the same as he smiled towards the Pureblood boy and nodded. “Indeed, there are no actual regulations and guidelines beside what content your curriculum has me teach you. I believe this to be more of a question for History class, so I will keep it short. While Muggle culture has spent a great deal of time trying to figure out different methods to teach, our society has not yet come as far as to discuss these topics. It’s not ideal that your education should depend so heavily on who is teaching you, at least not in my opinion, and thus I am going to try to be as much of a help and resource for you all as I can manage. Five points to Slytherin.” After that, there seemed to be no more questions on the topic.

“With that said, I will return to discuss your year of learning with you.” Remus moved back to the center of the room, where he was clearly visible and easily heard. “Your third year curriculum is very heavily based on Dark Creatures and the handle of such creatures. Some of you are taking Care of Magical Creatures this year, so I wish to state this beforehand to clear confusion, the handling of Dark Creatures is not much like that subject. Care means to actually care for them for a longer time, while in this class, our focus will be to deal with the creatures in question would you come to encounter them out in the world. Most of these dealings will be practical, and include everything from how to magically banish a boggart to how to practically distract or bargain with vampires for the sake of creating a chance to run away. I want to stress that there are many things out there which are not worth fighting, as much as they are worth distracting until escape is possible.”

“This year’s exam will be highly practical. During these lessons, you will learn both theoretically and practically, but my goal is to allow you to interact with the creatures and understand them in a more practical sense. We will thoroughly study in theory before any practical encounters and you will never come into my classroom and be shocked by something I have prepared you for.” 

Remus halted to take a deep breath, his expression changing into a slightly more serious one. “I want to stress that the variety of dark creatures which I will show you this year can be ever so frightening and uncomfortable. Part of the curriculum will include boggarts, which are creatures which manifest in the shape of your greatest fear. I will discuss this more when we get closer to that lesson, but I want you to take away that this year might prove mentally exhausting for some of you. If you do need help, or require any form of support, I encourage you to speak to me or a teacher you trust. I cannot allow you to simply ignore the class and never engage with the creature in question which frightens you, but there are likely preparations which can be made to ensure that you feel safe. I will accept no discrimination or badmouthing of anyone based on what they feel themselves unable to handle.”

The man turned towards his desk, pulling his wand out. He gestured towards a pile of paper, which softly raised itself up in the air and floated over to the students. Harry took his and peeked down on it. He was holding a schedule in his hands, one which showed roughly when they would be learning about what. Remus had them read through the schedule together, one person reading the dates and creature in focus, and the next student taking over to read the next segment. 

“You are very lucky to have a guest lecturer in just a few weeks with a class being taught by Professor Snape. He will be holding a lesson focusing on werewolves, as it is a subject he is well versed in. He is in fact responsible for many of the modern pieces of research about them, but I shall not speak too much of his credentials, as you will know them from his own mouth when the time comes for that lecture.” While some other students seemed very doubtful about the idea of having Professor Snape take over a lesson, Harry couldn’t help but notice that Remus seemed both relieved and happy to have the man take over that lesson from him. As he knew his dad, he could tell that the man appeared very at ease of mind when he spoke of the future lesson. The son of the werewolf felt all the more thankful towards the Potions Master for the way he was still helping the unfortunate werewolf. 

“Nonetheless, today is not the time for that lesson, instead, the first thing on our schedule will be dealing with pixies, as per request of the Headmaster. From what I understand, your education was lacking in the subject last year, so this will be somewhat of a repetition. Does everyone have their books? Good, turn to page… 46 I believe, tell me if I’m wrong.” The man smiled as he returned to the podium in front of the class. “We shall read the segment together and identify some of the common traits and behaviors of a pixie today. Is there anyone who would like to read first? Just a sentence each will be plenty.”

The lesson proceeded well, Remus had the class under control. They read the segment together before filling the chalk board with traits and behaviors. It was a lighthearted but educational lesson, one which Harry was certain that more people than him enjoyed. Not that he had any doubts about it, but his dad really seemed to be a great teacher. Right then, Harry was beyond proud to be the son of the werewolf. 

“Well, yeah… hello students!” Hagrid’s loud voice seemed to boom through every other conversation, forcefully stealing the attention of everyone gathered. 

There were a lot of people at the lesson, so many that Harry wondered if Hagrid was truly prepared to handle them all. Harry was standing with his group of Slytherin students plus Neville, as Hermione wasn’t allowed to pick the subject and had parted with them after lunch for her Arithmancy class. Neville had seemingly considered joining his fellow Gryffindors, but has ultimately decided to stand with the Slytherin students instead. 

Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan had already started whispering about Neville being a traitor to his House. They were clearly not mad about it as much as they were mocking him. Having failed to bother Neville when claiming that he was in love with every person he spoke to, and as the boy had accepted that he wasn’t very good at magic, they had resorted to try and make him feel bad about his thin relation to his assigned House. Their commitment to make their fellow Gryffindor feel bad was almost impressive, but all the more sad and pathetic. Harry was very glad that he was friends with Neville and could positively influence him and allow him a break from the boys he had to live with.

The group of Gryffindor boys kept their voices loud enough that the group could hear them, but subtle enough that the teacher wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Harry couldn’t help but think that if this had been his dad’s classroom, such behavior would never have been tolerated. 

The green eyed boy glanced over the group, spotting Ron Weasley’s unmistakable red hair. Harry recalled that he had always been one of the group, standing with the boys in the front, but now he was standing in the far back, as if trying to hide somewhat. He wasn’t listening or participating in the discussion about Neville, but instead peering vacantly into the Forbidden Forest. He was playing with his fingers as he did, absently poking, probing and stroking over his fingertips. Harry wasn’t certain why he did that, but he recalled that the ritual and blood magic circle had required Weasley’s own blood. It was highly likely that the wounds on his fingertips hadn’t fully healed but become scars instead. Back then, Harry had thought that the boy might have only gotten one scar on one finger, but the absent playing made it seem like there was likely more than one scar. Regardless, Harry recognised the gestures as nervous and fidgety. It was strange to see the person who had been a primary bully and source of discomfort in Neville’s, Hermione’s, Malfoy’s and Harry’s lives, now delegated to the back of the group, seemingly forgotten by his friends. 

As the students turned towards Hagrid, the giant man smiled awkwardly at them. “Yeah, well, today is my first class with you. Come with me and I’ll take you to meet your first creature.” He waved a large hand, beginning to walk. The students followed him, some picking up their robes as they hadn’t quite expected to take a walk into the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. It might be daylight out, but that didn’t mean that it was safe so close to it. Harry was uncomfortably aware that the forest might hide Sirius Black, who had been spotted seemingly heading towards the location of Hogwarts. He did his best to remain as far from the outskirts as he could, trying to keep a clear get away if he would have to run. Malfoy did the same, remaining by his side. Nott was talking to Goyle about his new invention, and how it would definitely work this time, Harry envied the freedom of not having to worry about a mass murderer coming for him. 

“Everyone gather ‘round!” Hagrid’s loud voice called the students to him, they shyly approached him, trying to look both at the teacher and what he was trying to show them, judging by the gesturing of his hands. 

Hagrid was showing towards an enclosure filled with a herd of beautiful, feathered creatures. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of giant eagles. Their beaks appeared cruel, and their brilliantly orange eyes only added to the impression of cruelty and pride which seemed to almost radiate from the creatures. The talons on their front legs were roughly half a foot long, looking more than capable of slicing deep inside a mage’s body. The last part was something more than one student realised, as the murmurs about how frightening the creatures looked began circling in the various groups. The enclosure looked temporary, and clearly had some sort of magical barrier around it and above to prevent the winged animals from escaping or deciding for other places outside the enclosure to be more interesting than within. 

Harry heard someone whisper “this is our first creature? Not something small and not deadly?” He couldn’t help but agree that this didn’t quite seem like a good choice of creature for their first lesson. Further, it felt very strange to be brought to the creatures without any sort of context or warning, or any instructions. The previous lesson had been all about preparing for the encounter and defense, which made it all the more apparent that the students were left without instructions and guidance in front of these creatures. 

“I will need a volunteer.” Hagrid peered hopefully at the group of students, who all collectively seemed to shy away. Even Crabbe and Goyle, who adored Hagrid for all that he was, didn’t have the confidence to step forward and meet that creature. If Hagrid had actually told them what was about to happen, perhaps his favourite students would have dared volunteering. However, even they knew that he had a tendency to be forgetful and not quite remember that humans were not as tough as half-giants. 

“I, uh… I’ll do it.” Neville stepped forward, carefully approaching the teacher who hadn’t earned the title of Professor. The Gryffindor students looked both mocking and impressed, while most Slytherin students looked unsure and nervous. Like that of a child's, Hagrid’s sad expression lit up immediately as he welcomed Neville forward. 

“Alright, so here is what is happening.” The half-giant began explaining how to deal with the creatures which he referred to as hippogriffs. Harry made a mental note of the fact that Hagrid had neglected to mention the name of the creatures until now. 

In theory, it seemed rather easy to deal with the proud, sharp-beaked creatures. The hippogriffs were a dangerous mix of predator and tamable. To approach a hippogriff, one needed to show respect and avert their eyes. Neville was instructed to carefully approach one in full view, waiting for the creature to pay attention to him. At that point, he was supposed to show submission by curling together, essentially bowing to the creature. If the hippogriff approached in return, Neville was told to remain very still as to not scare the creature or appear to be a threat to it or the herd. Ideally, the creature should recognise him and remain in place but if it did move forward, it was important to remain submissive and not make any sudden movements. Hagrid continued to say that he would tell Neville if it was safe to raise his head and move towards the creature, but at that point, he should move slowly, keep his movements clear and determinate, and touch the hippogriff without fear. After petting it, he should move away slowly and clearly, and the creature would leave him alone. 

Neville listened with a strained expression on his face, nodding as he clung to every word which left Hagrid’s lips as if his life depended on it. Harry really hoped that it didn’t. 

“You got all that? If I say back, you back away, if I say still, you remain.” The half-giant smiled. 

“Yeah.” Neville’s voice was much higher than it normally was. 

“Good, good. You will be approaching Buckbeak here.” He pointed at one of the silvery hippogriffs, the one who seemed to be the smallest of the herd. “Just make yourself seen, and then curl together, got it?” 

“Yes.” Neville’s voice remained higher pitched than it normally was. 

Following Hagrid’s instructions, the Gryffindor boy approached the smallest of the herd. They all saw him coming, but most of the creatures didn’t care. Buckbeak did realise that Neville was approaching him and stopped to observe him. After Neville stopped to show submission towards him, the creature shook itself before continuing to clean its feathers. The teacher encouraged Neville to approach, which he carefully did, making his intentions clear. Buckbeak didn’t mind in the least as he reached him and petted his feathery coat. After interacting with the beast for a while, Neville pulled back and turned, still slow and determined, before walking back to his group. Harry could see the intense focus in his eyes which later switched into relief when he exited the enclosure. 

“Good, good!” Hagrid cheered and patted his back, almost knocking the boy over. Neville smiled up at him, nervous and slightly shaken, but also proud. 

“Great going!” Crabbe whispered as Neville came back to them. 

“You did awesome.” Goyle patted him on the back. 

Harry was just about to compliment him too when Hagrid spoke up again. “So, three people at a time in the enclosure. Do as instructed, then back away and come back out. Avoid the large brown one with the cut off tail. She is the leader and she wants nothing to do with the lot of you. Everyone else is fair game. Don’t, uh, actually hunt them though… If they appear agitated, I will call off the rest of you and we will go talk about them.” The students nodded before forming three lines. 

Harry took his place in front of Nott and behind Malfoy. That placed him next to Weasley who stood in the line to the left of Harry, who he carefully smiled at. Weasley hesitated but then smiled back, looking rather sheepish. 

“How have you been?” Harry addressed the other boy in a subtle tone of voice as, trying to only speak to Weasley without letting the Gryffindor’s friends notice. 

“No more fainting if that’s what you mean.” Weasley smiled back, continuing to absently play with the scars on his fingertips. Now Harry could see that he did indeed have more than one scar on his fingertips. “And, I mean, I guess I haven’t died yet?” He snorted, looking uncomfortable at the thought. 

“Have you gotten a new wand yet?” Harry switched topics so as to not have to support Weasley at a time where he really didn’t have the time of competence to help him. If this had been a different place, at a different time, he might have chosen a different action than to distract the other, but as it was now, it was the best he could do. 

“Yeah.” He peeked up, smiling at the son of a werewolf in a much more honest display of happiness. “Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair.” He pulled it out of its assigned pocket and showed it to Harry, his expression both excited and slightly manic. “My very own wand. The last one belonged to Charlie. Uh, my brother. We applied for the help after Malfoy was thrown off the Board.” 

Malfoy would likely have turned and lectured Weasley at that point but he was called forward to approach one of the hippogriffs. Behind Harry, he heard Nott talk about his new invention, excitedly expressing how it was almost done but not yet. 

“I’m glad you have a wand now. Is it easier to handle magic now?” Harry leaned his head to the side, trying to continue the conversation in a pleasant manner. 

“Yep! Just the other day I was-”

“Yes, it works like this but it’s not re-”

Weasley and Nott were both interrupted by a loud, screeching noise which seemed to echo inside the clearing. It startled every single mage enough to cause them to flinch, yet even worse, it scared the matron of the hippogriffs. She cried out loudly to warn her herd, which in turn triggered panic in the animals. Buckbeak, the youngest of the herd, reacted with violence towards the closest thing which he identified as a threat, which in this case was Malfoy. The loud noise had caused the boy to flinch after which he spun around towards Harry, possibly thinking that the noise had been that of Sirius Black trying to attack his best friend. 

The many things playing together caused the young animal to get up on its hind legs and sweep towards Malfoy, its sharp talons missed their mark but they did briefly scratch over the boy’s back as Malfoy realised that he had made a mistake in moving too quickly. He responded by diving towards the ground upon hearing the young beast cry out behind him, his quick thinking saved him from being ripped open by the hippogriff’s sharp talons. 

Hagrid realised what was happening too late to save the boy from being attacked. He ran towards the hippogriffs, making himself as large as possible to trigger a flight response in them. They scattered as Malfoy remained on the ground, covering his head in case Buckbeak would attack again. Luckily, nobody else had been attacked by the frightened animals, only Malfoy had been close enough to even be in danger. 

“I’ll get you to the infirmary!” Hagrid called as he picked Malfoy up in his arms. 

“I can walk by mys-elf” The boy yelped as he was picked up and hurried past the rest of the class, Hagrid yelling at them all that class was dismissed. 

Harry hurried up to fall into steps with the half-giant, which of course meant that he was running by his side, trying to keep up with him. Neville came along as well, while their other friends stayed behind. 

“It’s just a scratch, it’s not like I’m dying!” Malfoy objected to being rushed to the infirmary. “Please, just put me down…” He begged, but the teacher would have none of it, instead taking him to Madam Pomfrey. 

The infirmary had been rather calm that day, until Hagrid all but burst through the doors, holding Malfoy in his arms as if he was his first born son. The giant showed the boy to the very startled Madam who almost dropped her jar of herbal extract. Hagrid looked like he was about to cry. “You must save him! It’s my first day as a teacher and I’ve already gotten a student hurt! Please help him!” He sobbed, seeming like he wanted to cry into Malfoy like he was a sheet of paper. 

“I am fine!” The blonde mage tried to plead with the nurse. “I was only scratched. It hurts, but I am not dying.” He tried once more, trying to put extra emphasis on the words this time. 

“Put him down there, what happened?” The nurse pointed towards one of the beds where Malfoy was hurriedly placed upon on his stomach, showing his wounded back to Madam Pomfrey. 

Harry and Neville leaned in to look. The marks were clear, and the boy was bleeding, but it seemed that he had indeed only been scratched. By the sharpness of those talons, he was very lucky with the state the wounds were in. They could have been far, far worse.

“Buckbeak.” The man snivelled, he was given a tissue by Neville, who had found a box of tissues on top of a nightstand. Hagrid blew his nose loudly. 

“A what now?” Madam Pomfrey had used magic to fetch a purple cream which she was now putting over the scratches on Malfoy’s back. He whimpered as the ointment touched his skin, it seemed as if it was hurting more than the scratches. 

“It was a hippogriff. There was a loud noise which startled it, it really wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Harry explained in the teacher’s stead. 

“A hippogriff?” She sighed, continuing her treatment by pulling the clothing off Malfoy’s upper body to give herself better access to his wounds. “Are those still at Hogwarts? I thought they were too useless to keep around.”

“They are not useless…” Hagrid sobbed, steadily working his way through Neville’s found tissue box as he cried. “They are beautiful, handsome birds who always clean their feathers very well. Kind and majestic…” He broke down sobbing once more into the tiny tissue paper. Neville carefully patted his elbow to support him. 

“Bah!” The Nurse scoffed. “The thestrals at least do something in pulling the carriages every now and then. Those bird monsters are only there to look pretty.” She finished up working on Malfoy’s wounds, before turning to Hagrid. They engaged in a loud shouting match about the usefulness of the creatures in question, which made Harry rather certain that there were no other patients in the wing at that time.

Harry and Neville carefully sneaked up to Malfoy, who seemed rather embarrassed to be lying shirtless in front of them as his cheeks were slightly flushed and he avoided their eyes. 

“You alright?” 

“Yes I’m-” 

“Be honest.” Harry interrupted him. 

Malfoy hesitated but then sighed, glancing over at Hagrid. “It stings a lot… I’m just glad I was able to get away from those talons, that…” He stalled once more. “Could have been bad.” 

Harry lowered his voice as well. “Yeah. Hippogriffs as the first lesson really does seem disproportionate.” 

“At least he wasn’t trying to get us to ride on them…” Neville joined in with the discussion, curling together by the head of the bed next to Harry. 

“That would probably have been very illegal.” Harry agreed. 

“Do you think Hagrid will be… fired now?” Neville continued to whisper, sending a nervous glance towards the still sobbing half-giant. 

“Maybe… he should be revised as a teacher at the very least. His lesson was… not like my dad’s.” Harry mumbled, feeling ashamed over hinting on that he felt that the man wasn’t educated or ready for his teaching position. “Not that I was expecting him to be brilliant without any proper training but…” 

“My robes are completely ruined...!” Malfoy whispered as he realised that they had three large holes in it. “I’ll need new ones… Ugh, my father will know about this.” He groaned and hid his face against the pillow. 

“Can’t you just repair them with magic?” Neville suggested. 

“Fabric is a little more complex than that.” Harry explained. “Fabric is thread woven together, repairing fabric would be like trying to repair hundreds and hundreds of different little threads at once. It can be done, sure, but it is very advanced and usually leaves very obvious marks from mending.” 

“Which is why I gave Lupin new socks. He can’t repair the old ones any other way than by hand.” Malfoy spoke into the pillow. “I can’t go around with mended robes, I’d be a laughing stock.” 

“People usually don’t laugh at people for having broken things.” Harry sighed at his dramatic friend. 

“Well, I’ll feel highly uncomfortable not presenting my best. I will need new robes.” Malfoy insisted, looking up at Harry with an almost pouting look on his face. Harry smiled at him reassuringly. 

It was up to Malfoy how he wanted to present himself, and him avoiding to tell his father about the robes for the sake of protecting a teacher who had risked his safety in the first place just wasn’t realistic to expect of him. Like the boy had stated, he was clearly uncomfortable with wearing broken or badly mended clothing, and he shouldn’t be forced to by his friends when there was no good reason as to force him to present himself in a way which made him feel uncomfortable. There was also no realistic outcome where Lucius Malfoy wasn’t informed about the incident, meaning that his son keeping quiet would in theory only buy Hagrid some more time before the inevitable was revealed. 

Madam Pomfrey returned to them after having chased Hagrid out, looking both annoyed and a little guilty. It seemed that she was feeling bad over having engaged in a fight with the newly assigned teacher. “Mr. Malfoy, you were lucky. Those marks aren’t very likely to scar and you will be out of here pretty swiftly. I’ll keep you for the night and give you an ointment to continuously be applied to avoid scarring. Your parents will of course be informed of the incident.” 

The three students exchanged looks at her words which seemed to annoy her. “You think we wouldn’t inform them for the sake of Hagrid? You underestimate the integrity of the rest of the staff. We shall not be risking the safety of our students needlessly.” She turned to glance at Harry and Neville, “you two can stay for a bit as you are alone for now, but I don’t want to see you spending time here instead of going to class.” 

Harry and Neville did indeed remain with Malfoy until they had to attend their next lesson. They promised to take notes for him but when Harry tried to say that they would come see him after dinner, Malfoy reminded him that he wasn’t supposed to go anywhere alone. The son of a werewolf wasn’t happy about his admonition but he had to surrender to the fact that the boy was right. Thus, they said goodbye, leaving Malfoy to be bored with whatever school literature he currently had in his bag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **Hippogriffs**  
>  It might be noteworthy that while the changes aren't very big, there are changes from the canon in how we deal with these creatures. Eye contact within the animal kingdom signals to most creatures a challenge or intimidation, while aversion is a sign of submission and respect. 
> 
> Respectful customary gestures such as bowing are made up concepts of respect, and we've brought bowing back to its core of making oneself smaller and averting one's eyes to someone, as well as showing oneself vulnerable. 
> 
> In short, we decided to make the hippogriffs behave far more like the animals which they are a mixed breed of, as well as other given herd traits. 
> 
> Further, these are primarily flying creatures which means aviaries, cages or restraints are generally needed to keep them in check, if not letting them roam free. It can be done with magic but it is a costly and less efficient manner.
> 
>  **Capitalisation of words in Harry Potter**  
>  A lot of words and concepts are capitalised within Rowling's work, and some of it does give off decently weird signals. A magical animal is still an animal, and to a mage society it would be a little bit like capitalising horse or cat. We have decided to normalise a lot of concepts which are part of the everyday life of mages as part of their vocabulary, rather than a concept so specific it needs to be addressed by a capitalised name.


	8. Chapter 7 - In which Severus Snape claims that there are no werewolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nott slowly raised his hand, looking nervous for once in his life. He was given permission to speak by the Professor nodding at him. “Did you… know a werewolf, Professor? Did you create this potion for the sake of helping them?” By the sound of his careful question, he was only daring to ask it in the first place due to the established classroom rules. 

The incident with Buckbeak greatly changed the dynamic in their friend group. Lucius Malfoy had been informed of the event, which had subsequently led to a campaign against Hagrid on the man’s part. Malfoy Senior used his influence with the Ministry to raise the issue in higher places, which subsequently led to Hagrid being evaluated as a teacher by a professional sent by the Ministry. The person arrived within a week and took to always silently follow the half-giant around, keeping a close watch on him. This made him all the more nervous, and he seemed to make steadily increasing mistakes, all to the satisfaction of the scratching pen of the person who observed him. Harry couldn’t find this wrong per say, he wished the assigned Ministry agent would give out some sort of feedback or valuable information to the half-giant about his teaching, but it mostly seemed to be silent criticism. 

Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson blamed Malfoy for what had happened. Even if the boy had no power in what his father or the Ministry were doing, they found him guilty of causing this mess for their friend. Malfoy had tried to explain to them that he didn’t even contact his father, the school did, yet it was clear that the group didn’t believe him. 

To Harry, the situation was quite uncomfortable so he tried to talk to Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson about what had happened and how he had heard Madam Pomfrey say that the school would contact Malfoy Senior. However, Malfoy’s old friends Crabbe and Goyle simply couldn’t believe that the blonde mage would refrain from telling his father and try to get Hagrid in trouble with meaning. 

“Really, Lupin. He is like that. Him trying to deny it is kind of insulting, as if we could possibly believe he changed after all these years.” Crabbe grunted, refusing to listen to anything else Harry tried to tell him after that. Crabbe had clearly set his mind on his belief and it was distressing to Harry how the truth didn’t seem to matter to the other, seeing how emotionally invested the boy was in Hagrid’s success. It was even more insulting given the fact that Malfoy had been sticking up for Hagrid in the past, but apparently it wasn't worth remembering in favor for all the times Malfoy had done similar things even further in the past. 

Nott was devastated by what his noisemaker had started, he had apologised profoundly to Malfoy for the danger he had put him in, as well as tried to apologise to Hagrid, and the group of Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson. However, nobody blamed him. This seemed to make him feel all the worse as Malfoy was consistently seen as the one at fault when the boy knew it to be his doing. 

Blaise wasn’t directly involved in any way, but he made it clear to everyone that he believed that Hagrid deserved the inspection from the Ministry. It was a fact that somebody got hurt and that the hippogriffs were very dangerous. He thought Nott had been an idiot for bringing the noisemaker in the first place, but he was realistic enough to insist that someone had still been hurt and that the damage could have been far worse than it was. Clearly, something should be done to ensure the safety of the students, rather than allowing Hagrid to roam free. His opinion made him an equal enemy to Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson. 

Another full moon was approaching alongside the beginning of October. Remus was handling his classes well, and despite people finding him a little strange and unconventional, he was quickly becoming well liked. People who Harry didn’t even know were in his year were speaking in class, asking or answering questions. Remus usually didn’t give them homework, allowing the students to leave his classroom feeling like they accomplished something, rather than had extra things to complete before they could relax. 

Still, as time passed, the moon became fuller, and Remus wouldn’t be able to hold their next class. Instead, it would be covered by Professor Snape. Harry was excited but skeptical. He was very invested in the way people viewed werewolves and was more than prepared for the standard lecture about their evil nature and how big of a danger they were to the rest of the world. As he took his seat that day, Harry felt his heart tremble in his chest with excitement and nervousness. Malfoy seemed to half-notice his strange behavior but seemed to pass it off as his friend just being passionate about werewolves. Hermione and Neville sat in the seats behind them, the girl seemed to be in the same state of mind as Harry. In front of her, she had her quill, ink and parchment, ready to take notes. 

Professor Snape strode into the room, his black robes sweeping behind him as he walked to the speaking podium. With a wave of his wand, the door closed by the end of the room, locking the students in with him during his lecture. 

“If you have forgotten, and by the looks on your faces, some of you have, I have been requested to host a guest lecture for you today on behalf of Professor Lupin, who is otherwise engaged.” He paused to look at the students. “Today, we shall be discussing werewolves. My credentials for this topic is as follows, I have researched this disease since my teenage years. I have written most of my degrees on this topic and I am the inventor of the Lycanthropy Potion, also known as the Wolfsbane Potion. This potion allows a transformed werewolf to remain in control over their mind during the night of a full moon. Nonetheless, I shall not dwell on my work, I am here to lecture for you… Yes, Mr. Nott?” 

Somewhere during his speech, Nott had raised his hand, his usual enthusiasm making him move his hand his hand back and forth as he tried to get the Professor’s attention. The Potions Master gave him his attention with a somewhat annoyed look on his face. He was not used to being interrupted as he spoke. 

“Have you ever encountered a werewolf, Professor?” Nott lowered his hand, leaning forward as he asked. 

“What a foolish question.” The man breathed out through his nose, opening his mouth to speak again but some mad Gryffindor student yelled from the back of the classroom. 

“There are no foolish questions!” 

“What was that?” The Professor turned towards the class, his gaze sharp. 

“Professor?” Hermione raised her hand. “Professor Lupin has made it clear that any questions are welcome in his classroom. It is on the board behind you, since you are lecturing for him, you are expected to follow his instructions and therefore-”

“I understand, Ms. Granger.” The man cut her off before she could go on a continuous tangent. His voice was still sharp but he seemed less intimidating somehow. He took a long look at the board before returning to look at his class. He seemed at least visibly annoyed, but at the same time he looked rather resigned. “Very well. Mr. Nott, in regards to your question, I have indeed encountered werewolves. I worked closely with some in the completion of the Lycanthropy potion. One point to Slytherin. Two points to Gryffindor.” 

The class couldn’t help but whisper to one another as the Head of the Slytherin House not only gave points to Gryffindor, but gave points to Hermione Granger for essentially doing what he usually punished her for doing. 

The Professor’s answer once more reminded Harry of the Professor’s past relationship to his dad, and he found himself grinning widely again. Most would probably assume that he was satisfied to see Professor Snape uphold the same kind of teaching as his dad upon being asked, but there truly was more to it. This time, his eyes met with his teacher for just a second, before the teacher averted his eyes, looking displeased, but strangely, Professor Snape didn’t make a comment this time around. 

“With this dealt with, I shall start my lecture.” The man straightened up and eyed the class, clearly pausing for effect before he spoke. “There is no such creature as a werewolf. Everything you likely think, have heard and believe about werewolves, even the information from within your classroom, is more likely than not false.” 

His words caused a stir within the room, many people objected out loud while some raised their hands. Harry sat stunned at the front of the class, staring up at the man with a lost look on his face. Behind him, Hermione had raised her hand high, clearly intent on objecting or questioning the teacher’s words. Malfoy’s expression was one of inner conflict and disbelief. 

The guest lecturer raised his hands, signalling for them all to calm down and lower their hands. He didn’t accept any questions but instead kept on speaking. “If you will quiet down, I shall explain my words. The first thing you need to know is that Lycanthropy is not a state of being, it is a magical disease. Consider an animagus, like Professor McGonagall, you could not consider her more feline than person. There have been recorded cases where animagi remain in their animal shapes for extended periods of times, forgetting that they were ever human. Despite this, our society still does not acknowledge them as animals or beasts, but as people."

“What you know as a werewolf is the beastly side of a person, whose body has been infected with a disease which has no cure. What you know as a monster, what you fear as a beast, is a person. Note that when I say ‘werewolf’ henceforth, I am referring to the state of a person after their transformation, not the person infected by the disease. Before I continue, we shall address some further terms related to this subject. Can anyone tell me the difference between the words ‘lycan’ and ‘lycanthropy?’” He walked over to the board and wrote both words on it in an elegant yet clear handwriting. 

Harry and Hermione both raised their hands equally quickly. Professor Snape glanced at Harry but then allowed his gaze to settle on the Gryffindor girl. “Ms. Granger?” 

“Lycan is the person affected by the disease of Lycanthropy. Lycanthropy is not a state of being in the same way as a Lycan is. In some cases, people use Lycan to refer to a werewolf who has gained mastery of their transformation and can transform at will. There are no explicitly recorded cases of this control being mastered, but there are claims that the criminal Fenrir Greyback was able to control his transformations at will. He is currently locked up in Azkaban and has never made an official utterance on his mastery of his abilities.” Hermione didn’t ramble as much as she kept her voice clear and slow, allowing everyone to hear her properly. 

Normally, the girl would speak as quickly as possible to get as much information out before somebody stopped her. This usually added to people’s general discomfort with her, because they couldn’t quite comprehend what she had said and then the lesson continued, leaving Hermione as the pretty much only one who could still follow it. Remus’ lessons had helped her realise that she had the right to formulate her answers and wouldn’t be interrupted if she took a break to breathe. It had helped her realise that she was an asset to her fellow classmates, if she could only rely on the teacher to give her room to speak. With those things given to her, she was becoming a confident speaker, one whose answers helped more people than it left them confused.

“Five points to Gryffindor.” Professor Snape wrote her answers on the board, rewarding her words in an almost casual manner. The reaction from the room was an almost collective gasp. Hermione herself shone like the sun, her smile wide and her cheeks flushing. 

“I shall proceed to tell you the facts about Lycanthrophy and what you have likely been misled to believe in. The fact is that a werewolf is dangerous. It is more beast than animal, and more monster than it is a beast. However, the thing you must understand about a werewolf is that it is a creature in pain. The transformation itself is a highly painful process. If you need a comparison, envision your entire being burning, every muscle hurting, every sense heightened, and all your impulses laid bare by a rush of adrenaline. It is little surprise that a werewolf is dangerous, for it does not understand where it is and why it is hurting. Thus, they are reduced to bare instincts, as they fear all and comprehend nothing. If you do encounter a werewolf on the night of a full moon, it should be treated like any other dangerous animal, and you should seek to remove yourself from the scene as quickly and soundlessly as possible. There is no value in trying to hurt, capture, fight or kill the beast. It is by no means evil or wishes you harm, it only seeks to keep itself safe.” 

“The very word werewolf means man-wolf. Something often forgotten when discussing werewolves if the ‘man’ part. A person suffering from Lycanthropy is not always a werewolf, and they do not have to become beasts once a month if properly medicated for their disease. By the use of the Lycanthropy potion, they regain their human mind through the transformation, and can remain as sentient as any other canine. It is still a creature in pain, but it does recall what it normally is and understands why it is hurting.” On the board behind him, he wrote werewolf and separated the were and the wolf. Under the word were the Professor wrote ‘person’ and under the word wolf, he wrote ‘animal.’ 

“This leads to the conclusion that a person suffering from the disease is far more human than they are animal or beast. They are in control of their mind and body for most of the month, and are not even dangerous on the day of the transformation. The only time a person infected by Lycanthrophy is a danger to society and the people around them is during the night of a full moon. As discussed before, even this one night, or two in the rare case where the moon is full for more than one night, such a person can be completely safe.” Professor Snape turned towards the class, somehow managing to make every single student feel like he was staring at them. “Any questions?” 

A Gryffindor student raised her hand, looking both hesitant and nervous as she was given the word. “So are you saying that werewolves are harmless? If that was true, why do we have the anti-werewolf legislation?”

Harry felt a strong pulse of hatred throb through him as he heard her question. He knew that werewolves were heavily discriminated against but to have someone claim that they needed the anti-werewolf legislation to remain safe from people infected with Lycanthropy made him feel furious. He looked to the Professor with a both pleading and expectant expression, secretly begging him to address how damaging that legislation was. 

“Five points to Gryffindor.” The Potions Master followed the assigned system. However, Harry felt a sour, sickening taste fill his mouth as the Gryffindor received points for her cruel question. 

“There are many laws and regulations which apply to those infected by Lycanthropy. I will switch to using ‘werewolves’ and ‘werewolf’ as collective terms to apply to those infected for the sake of you following me better. That being said, I do not condone this type of general wording, but I shall use it currently for the sake of simplicity.” The man walked over to the board and wrote ‘anti-werewolf legislation’ on it.

“Werewolves have always been present in the magic society, they have equally made a mark on Muggle history even if they are currently considered fictional to the Muggles. Somewhere during 1945 to 1950, an attempt to keep a record of those inflicted with the condition was made. This is commonly referred to as the Werewolf Registry.” He wrote the words under the headline of anti-werewolf legislation. “Further, in 1961, there was another law passed which forbade werewolves to hide their condition from their employers. Quickly followed by another law in 1962 which stated that those who were suspected of the disease could be fired from their work without any warning, and would have to leave their post within a day without payment or insurance. Further, the Registry demanded those who signed their names to purchase enforced steel cages in which they should be locked up during the nights of a full moon to protect other citizens from them. They were given no financial assistance to purchase these cages.” He continued to write key words on the board as he spoke. 

“After 1978, when I had devised the Lycanthropy potion and made it available for the public, it was quickly revealed that the potion was costly to make. Many werewolves were already living in poverty due to the heavy discrimination which they continuously faced, and which removed them from their opportunities to work. Some brave werewolves pleaded to the Ministry for financial help, but were refused. Another law was quietly passed where any stately licensed or owned potion brewery was required to provide information to the Ministry if they were asked to brew the Lycanthropy potion. This was stated to be due to the complexity of the potion and to avoid brewing poison instead of said potion. This was claimed to be for the safety individual which would be taking it.”

“What the law essentially states is that a stately potion brewery is not authorised to brew highly advanced potions without informing the Ministry of Magic, since failure of brewing advanced potions might lead to harm for the customer. To a werewolf, the effect of this law was to provide a way to locate werewolves and trace them to a specific area. When the werewolves realised this, they turned away from those stately breweries and for many, that was the end of where they could turn for help. From the previous information I have given, I am certain that you understand that due to their low employment rate and general state of poverty, hardly any werewolves could afford a private brewerer’s services.” 

The man turned back towards the class, where most people were sitting silent, staring with lack of understanding at the black board which listed the systematic discrimination against werewolves. “The anti-werewolf legislation is essentially a collective term used to refer to laws and legislations which systematically discriminate against werewolves. Many see them as essential to keep the population safe from werewolves, but the reality is that without these laws, werewolves would provide less of a danger to the society around them. These laws are what keeps werewolves from being able to find employment, which leads to them living in poverty, which in turn leads to them being unable to afford the Lycanthropy potion. If our societal views of werewolves changed, and the Ministry of Magic provided funding for werewolves in financial need, the stigma and fear related to werewolves could be utterly removed. To phrase it simply, werewolves would no longer be a danger, if it wasn’t for these legislations.” 

Harry could feel tears in his eyes but he swallowed them down, trying to make certain that Malfoy didn’t see how much Professor Snape’s words meant to him. After werewolves having struggled and suffered because of the magic world’s hatred and fear towards them, after seeing his dad’s shame and fear over what he was, and what he was seen as, to hear someone speak in favor of helping werewolves made Harry feel indescribably happy. He wasn’t sure if he had ever wanted to hug someone and thank them more than he wanted to hug his Potions Professor at that point. Still, he knew that the man wouldn’t want or welcome the physical contact, so he would of course not do it. Harry had completely forgotten that he had already hugged the Potions Master once during his first year of Hogwarts, when Professor Snape referred to him as Lupin rather than Potter and had saved him from being forced to try out for Quidditch. 

“Something for all of you to make certain that you remember is that the Wizarding World has never been kind or accepting of things it does not understand. Lycanthrophy is something mages cannot control, it cannot be cured, and the individual suffering from the disease isn’t conveniently deformed for the purpose of allowing for easy identification. Thus, they fear it. This fear is what removes the possibility of help or understanding, and is what leads to the individual being dangerous in the first place.” The creator of the Lycanthropy Potion stated it as a fact, the evidence behind him spelling out a truth which the Wizarding World did not want to acknowledge. “Any questions?” 

Nott slowly raised his hand, looking nervous for once in his life. He was given permission to speak by the Professor nodding at him. “Did you… know a werewolf, Professor? Did you create this potion for the sake of helping them?” By the sound of his careful question, he was only daring to ask it in the first place due to the established classroom rules. 

For a split second, the man looked distant. Harry who was sitting in front of him saw his gaze flicker, his eyes filling with the heavy burden of memories long past. Then he was back to normal once more, scoffing at the question. 

“I did not know any werewolves, but upon searching for a suitable topic for my final exam in potion brewing, I stumbled upon the realisation that there is very little written about Lycanthropy. There is certainly a lot of literature about werewolves, but few describe the disease and instead focus on the nature of the beast. Not to mention that this information is lacking in the first place. Many either state false information or resort to fear mongering. I involved myself with the topic, and was able to establish contact with a few people suffering from Lycanthropy. Together with them, I was able to create the potion. I have also written essays on the topic of the disease, further exploring the condition rather than the beast. To my knowledge, I am one of few researchers focusing on the ‘were,’ rather than the ‘wolf.’” He glanced back at the board. “Five points to Slytherin.” 

When the man finished speaking, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that the man before him really had loved his dad. It may have been brief, it might possibly have been shallow, but at least for a time, Professor Snape had loved Remus. He had loved him enough to further an entire topic of research and improve the possibilities for a better life for all werewolves. 

Professor Snape continued his lecture by discussing common myths about werewolves and explaining why and how they weren’t true. He continued to discuss ways to defend oneself should one encounter a werewolf during the one night when they were dangerous. He explained how to use light, loud noises or generally distracting magic above trying to hurt or damage the creature. His lesson continued with a few students asking questions, but he generally lectured and encouraged that the class took notes. 

Finally, he assigned homework in the form of a short essay about a common werewolf myth, encouraging that the students do proper research before claiming anything to be true or false. The Professor wrote a few suggested myths on the board, including the myth that treating a werewolf bite by a mix of powdered silver and Dittany would save the victim from bleeding out, or the myth that there was a spell which could return the werewolf back into their human shape. Before allowing the class to leave, he made it very clear that he would be grading the essays himself, and would not be kind to any misinformation encouraged within the students’ texts. With that, he dismissed the class, which began moving out of the classroom. 

Harry lingered, until only he, the Professor, Malfoy, Hermione and Neville remained. “Thank you for your lecture, Professor. It was my favorite lecture I’ve ever had the pleasure to listen to.” He grinned up at the man, beaming at him with honest enthusiasm. 

“...I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mr. Lupin.” The man waved his wand at the chalkboard, causing it to clean itself. 

“It was very informative, I look forward to completing the assignment.” Hermione shyly agreed with Harry. 

“Delighted to hear that.” The man’s dry tone of voice made it seem like he was being dishonest with her. “Now be away with you, the next class will arrive shortly and I need time to prepare.” 

Together, the group left the classroom, Harry turned one final time to mouth ‘thank you’ to the Professor who he was convinced had once loved his dad. The Potions Master gave a small nod, with a neutral expression on his face, before he waved his wand, shutting himself away from the son of a werewolf. The last Harry saw of the man that day was how he stood alone in the classroom of the subject which he so dearly desired to teach, in the spot where Remus was supposed to stand. Yet, he did not in any way appear satisfied, triumphant or happy. If anything, he appeared misplaced and lonely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **Werewolves in society**  
>  As most of this is explained in the story, there isn't too much to add aside from making a note that we have revised pretty much all of the werewolf lore in this series, and thus the acts, laws and dates mentioned are not by any means canon, but written for our version.
> 
> Umbridge's vague Anti-werewolf legislation which supposedly passed 1993 never happened in this version. When looking upon systematic discrimination towards a minority, it's not generally the evil act of a single person which is the cause, but the issue is far larger. Dolores Umbridge is still recorded to be openly against werewolves in our version, but more on that in later installments.
> 
>  **Werewolf appearance**  
>  In regards for werewolf appearance we have decided upon a similar portrayal to that of the movies. There are various ways in which werewolf lore can happen, and because this lore particularly has it being a magical blood curse rather than any clear ancestry from wolves, it makes more sense to make a beast more separate from the animal. 
> 
> For the depths and potential origins of this disease in this lore, it makes more sense to be a separate monstrous disease which was named after wolves.


	9. Chapter 8 - In which Sirius Black isn’t allowed into his common room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Professor? May I ask a question?” Malfoy stared at the man, his manners and the expression on his face having become far politer than before. Judging by the change in mannerisms, it seemed that he expected his question to be controversial or uncomfortable. 
> 
> “Of course.” Remus straightened up, looking somewhat more tense but nonetheless welcoming as he turned towards the young Malfoy. “I do always encourage questions, as I’m certain you know.” He smiled towards the boy, a smile which was equal parts inviting as it was polite. 

Harry, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy all decided to study for the werewolf assignment together. Everyone wanted help from Harry to some degree, seeing that to them, he was a walking and breathing research book about werewolves.  
  
It seemed Neville had decided to write about the myth of Dittany and silver, because with the help of Hermione and Harry, the boy had realised exactly how dangerous the myth was for encouraging people to carelessly put powdered metal into an open wound, thus letting it into their bloodstream. With some help from Hermione regarding Muggle studies of human biology, it became rather easy for the boy who knew most effects of Dittany to write why the healing herb wouldn’t apply in a situation with a bleeding wound, and why the silver would poison a person.  
  
Hermione had decided upon a very challenging and to Harry very interesting essay. The Gryffindor girl had decided to write about the myth that the biological child of a werewolf would inherit the same traits. The girl was referring to Professor Snape’s studies and the evidence of Lycanthropy not affecting the infected person any other time than on the night of a full moon. There was little to no record regarding werewolf offspring, but the girl suspected that since werewolves couldn’t infect other people with their blood curse any other time than during the night of a full moon, it stood to reason that their bodily fluids couldn’t infect and carry the Lycanthropy disease on any other day than a full moon. Meaning that any offspring produced at a different time was not likely to carry the disease. 

Professor Snape had encouraged her research, stern but approving of her chosen topic. She was using a lot of Muggle science about the human body to justify her theories. The Professor had suggested for her to only briefly note down her hypothetis in this essay, but that there would be future opportunities for her to do more proper research should she desire it. 

Further, her research also led to finding Professor Snape’s essays about the canine behaviours and traits which the person subjected to the disease displayed outside of the transformation. The essay stated that those behaviors were few and not necessarily universal in all werewolves, but existing. Harry realised that Snape had not mentioned or discussed anything about that topic in his lecture. Perhaps it wasn’t that important to him, or perhaps he had neglected to mention it so as to not give anyone reason to suspect Remus based on those noticeable traits in the infected human. Even then, since it seemed to be so strictly a magical blood disease, it didn't make sense for why those traits would be inherited.  
  
Harry was beyond impressed with Hermione’s idea and more than a little excited by the prospect of someone being able to prove that werewolves could have children without infecting them with Lycanthropy. He vowed to himself that if Hermione didn’t do further research the topic when they got older, he definitely would. However, they were still thirteen and the topic of werewolf offspring was a complicated one. Instead, Harry chose to write about Lockhart’s supposed werewolf spell, focusing on how it likely stemmed from the spell which could be used to force an animagus to revert back to their human shape. After all the discomfort from the author and his book, it was very satisfying to write an essay to destroy the myth which had been perpetuated by Lockhart.  
  
Malfoy had a hard time picking what he was going to write about, and had altogether been rather silent regarding the whole topic of werewolves. The boy was listening attentively and asking fact based questions, but he wasn’t stating any opinions of his own. Harry got a sense that the boy didn’t dare voicing an opinion on a matter which he had clearly been misinformed about throughout his life. After all the previous lies and mistakes the boy had encountered, it wasn’t surprising Harry that Malfoy refrained from making any comments without being certain of the facts.

In the end, Malfoy opted to write a rather simple but proper essay about the idea that werewolves were dangerous at any other time than the night of full moon. He borrowed some of Hermione’s research to be able to conclude that they were not a danger to society in their regular human shapes. 

“Is there anything you want from Honeydukes?” Hermione and Neville said goodbye to Harry and Malfoy, who were staying at Hogwarts while most of the third year students were going to visit Hogsmeade for the first time. The third years were herded together by Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, who would walk them to and from the village to keep them safe. 

It was the weekend before Halloween and all of Hogsmeade was apparently decorated for the holiday. Harry found that he was a little jealous, but he also knew that it wasn’t really worth it to risk his life to see some pumpkin decorations. After all, he had seen the village before, and he could go see it anytime after Sirius Black had been recaptured.

“Do they have any Halloween candy?” Harry asked her in return. “I’d love something pumpkin flavored, something small is completely fine.” 

“I suppose I’d like something lemon or honey flavored.” Malfoy handed her two Galleons. “Use that to buy something for Lupin as well.” 

“Hey, I can pay for my own candy.” The son of a werewolf objected, looking up at his friend with a displeased look on his face. 

“See it as me repaying you for all the help with that werewolf essay.” Malfoy smiled at him, a somewhat teasing grin. “Mother gave me some money as a Halloween gift, I shouldn’t use all that money to give myself candy. Anything that is left after you’ve paid for mine and Lupin’s candy, you can use on yourselves.” He addressed Hermione and Neville with the last line. 

“Are you sure?” Neville glanced at the Galleons, clearly feeling a little overwhelmed by that amount of money just being casually thrown at them. 

Malfoy shrugged. “Don’t patronise me, Longbottom. I know how much money I have and what I can and should use it for. Two Galleons is not a problem to me.” The blonde wizard waved his hand, as if he was trying to make Neville’s insecurity vanish alongside his own. To Harry, it seemed that Malfoy was uncomfortable talking about money, and would rather people just allow him the dismissal without further questioning. The rest of the group seemed to pick up on his unease and simply let the topic go. 

Hermione brought her purse up and placed the coins into her coin bag. If anything, she seemed to have caught onto that Malfoy was getting uncomfortable with the discussion. “Thank you. We will see you later, please say hi to Professor Lupin from us.” She smiled at them. 

“Granger!” 

Hermione’s smile froze on her face as an angry voice called her name. She curled together somewhat as Weasley came up to them, looking distressed and angry. Both Neville and Malfoy moved forward a step, the two of them weren’t exactly tall but they were taller than Weasley was. Both of them were clearly ready to defend the girl if the boy was trying to attack her. Harry noted that Weasley was alone, thus not likely to pick a fight with all of them, but he prepared himself for one nonetheless. 

“I found your cat attacking my Scabbers again! This time he actually made him bleed! How can you be so irresponsible as to let him hurt my pet?” The boy stopped before her, his face red and his eyes wet. “Scabbers is already missing one toe and your beast is after more of them!” 

“He is a cat, Weasley. I’m sorry that he is hunting your rat. Can’t you get a cage or something for him so that he’ll be safer?” The girl tried to suggest a solution, but they all knew that the Gryffindor boy didn’t have the economy to buy his rat a cage. 

“Well! You should be able to do something!” He objected, looking like he wanted to stomp his foot in anger or break something. He was not doing any of it, but it seemed like he wanted to for the sake of releasing some of his anger. 

“Why don’t you talk to the teachers or Hagrid?” Harry suggested. “Maybe one of the Professors can do something to help, or Hagrid could build a cage?” 

The red haired boy blinked at him, then slowly nodded. “That… I… I guess any cage would work…” He stuttered out. “I’ll do that. Uh, thanks.” He said the last word very quickly and then hurried back to his friends. Harry saw how one of them laughed and pointed at the boy’s face, resulting in the rest snickering as well while Weasley tried to hide his face by trying to shrink into his clothing. It was sad to see the boy being bullied right in front of a capable teacher, how the situation with so many children all around her made Professor McGonagall unaware of the bullying which was happening. 

Harry wished that there was something he could do, but he couldn’t get to Weasley without risking being attacked himself. Not to mention that the boy probably wouldn’t appreciate or want Harry’s help in the first place. Harry still wasn’t quite certain that he wanted Weasley as a friend, but he felt conflicted in wanting to help him. He decided to tell his dad and see if Remus might be able to handle the situation in some way. 

“Alright, we are leaving, everyone follow me and don’t fall behind Hagrid. Everyone set? Then let us leave.” Professor McGonagall called over the crowd, the group began marching away, leaving Harry and Malfoy alone. They waved to Hermione and Neville who hurried to join the group, but didn’t remain to watch the line disappear out the castle grounds. 

Then, they turned towards the castle and headed back in through the doors, meeting Remus who was waiting for them in front of the Great Hall. When they approached the man, he was staring at the big hour glasses on the walls, seemingly deep in thought. When the boys reached him, he smiled at them both. 

“Good morning class.” The werewolf said. 

“Class?” Malfoy looked almost offended as he responded, his expression twisted into a displeased frown. 

“Oh… Yes.” The man chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve been teaching for about two months and I’ve already picked up some habits. I apologise for offending you.” 

Harry laughed without appearing mean or mocking, only honestly happy. “That’s great, dad. You can call us two a class. We can definitely be a class on our own.” 

“Very well, doesn’t that mean I have to teach you something today?” Remus ruffled his son’s hair, smiling at him. 

“We can have a preview of the Dementor lesson on Monday?” Harry suggested as quickly Malfoy shook his head. 

“It’s the weekend, I want to rest. I have Quidditch practice tomorrow so today is my ‘ease of mind’-day.” The blonde mage objected. 

“That is good thinking, Mr. Malfoy. One point to Slytherin for healthy mental practices.” The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor smiled at them, evidently approving of the boy’s insight. Behind them, an emerald fell from the top of the Slytherin hourglass into the bottom. “I would give you more points, as it is that important to rest and recover, but you will have to settle with one and my strong approval. Now then, what tea blend would you like to drink?” Remus began walking, taking the two boys with him to his office as they discussed their tea preferences. 

Remus’ office was sparsely decorated, unlike what it had been when Harry and Malfoy had been there when Quirrell owned it. During Quirrell’s time, it had been messy but clearly filled with all manners of items relating to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry also briefly recalled tribal masks on the walls as well as a collection of skulls in one of the bookcases. When in the possession of Lockhart, the room had been filled with his own books as well as posters and paintings of himself. Remus office seemed bare boned in comparison to the previous teachers, his walls were bare and he had few possessions. There were two bookcases in the room, one bookcase was mostly empty but had a few volumes in it, while the other had the shelves sorted after the study years, presumably holding the different assignments which Remus had given the classes. 

There was a small stove in a corner of the room, one which had been specifically designed with the purpose of allowing the owner of the room to make tea or coffee. Harry wouldn’t recall seeing it before in the room, but he had also never seen it at home, making him somewhat confused as to where the stove had come from. Remus began making tea as Harry cleaned some space for him and Malfoy by the teacher’s desk. 

The two Lupins worked together, placing their guest down on one of the chairs by the desk and simply prepared the cups and tea for him. The blonde wizard seemed uncertain if he should be used to this or find it curious to be tended to. He was clearly used to the former, which both Lupins knew on the basis of seeing his home, yet Malfoy seemed to be very aware that he wasn’t at home, thus the service given to him was clearly making him somewhat confused as to what he should think about it. 

After the three settled in, with Remus behind his desk and Harry and Malfoy in front of it, steaming hot tea filling their cups, Harry brought up his bag and pulled his knitting needles and yarn out. The yarn was the same color of red as the socks which he had given to Neville. The beginning of a sock had begun to take shape, but he was clearly far from done. 

“How is that going?” Remus smiled at his son’s work. “What are you making this time?” He asked politely, without demanding an answer. 

“It’s going rather fine. I made a mistake here, but I think I saved it.” Harry pointed as he spoke, although none of the other two present could quite tell what the fault was supposed to be. “It’s still a pair of socks for Hermione. I have so much red yarn left that I thought it would be the best to start with that. Next are your socks.” He looked at Malfoy with a grin, giving him a wink. 

“Should you really be telling me what you are making for me?” The boy raised an eyebrow, grinning back at him. 

“I thought we had a deal of sock exchange!” Harry pretended to be shocked. “Must we hide our intentions to give each other socks?” 

Malfoy and Remus both chuckled, whereas his dad shook his head with a pleased look on his face. “I suppose you’d like more yarn for the Holidays then?” 

“Yes please. I need some green, and some blue. Oh, or some white?” He excitedly rambled some colors which he would enjoy having. 

“I’m sure I will be able to find that, yes.” His dad smiled at him before sipping some tea.

“Should I give you yarn for the Holidays as well then?” Malfoy asked, somewhat hesitant as to not make it seem like he could afford a lot more than Remus could. They all knew that he could, and neither Harry or Remus blamed the boy for what he could afford and not. It was not his fault and not his doing, or a fault in the first place for the matter. 

“If you don’t mind, I’d like some more knitting patterns. I want to see if I can maybe make a sweater, that would be interesting, I think.” Harry answered carefully, feeling somewhat uncomfortable to make requests. “If you don’t want to, just yarn is fine.” 

The blonde wizard nodded. “I’ll see what I can find.” 

Silence settled for a while, the room filling with the sound of Harry knitting as well as the occasional noises which tended to accompany tea drinking as they continued to drink their hot beverages. 

“How is your Quidditch practice going?” Remus carefully asked Malfoy, breaking the silence which had not been uncomfortable or heavy, but rather pleasant. “I believe the first game is very soon, is that right?” 

Malfoy’s face lit up with interest as he was allowed to talk about his passion. He straightened up and began to talk about the team. “The Captain should have graduated last year, but due to not passing his exams with everything that happened with the Chamber of Secrets, he is retaking his seventh year. Apparently, he is dating the Captain of the Gryffindor team, and they are holding mostly all our practices together for the sake of improving both teams. Our first game will be against them and, well… the teams sure are a mix of determinate and sad. It feels like the third act of a novel, except that it is just the first game of the season.” He sighed at the dramatic views which he presented, pretending that he was observing the scenario from the outside. Harry was rather certain that Malfoy, if anyone, would become quite passionate about a game between two lovers on rival teams, even as a story. 

“How are your wounds? Have they healed properly or are you struggling to move still?” It was no secret that Malfoy had been hurt during the Care for Magical Creatures class, thus it was not strange that Remus asked about it. As a friend of Narcissa Malfoy, it was likely that the man had been asked to confirm the well being of her son. 

Malfoy’s fingers moved to play with the snake cuffs which he always wore, it was a clear sign that he needed some manner of comfort before speaking up. “I really did think that they would be fine by now, and they mostly are, but I do feel some pain while flying due to the position my back is in. There is no need for alarm though, I have talked to Madam Pomfrey and she has told me that I will be fine if I continue to be active. However, she did tell me that I should not push myself if it hurts too much.” 

Remus nodded. “If you are hurting too much, the game can always be postponed. Would you like me to talk to Professor Sprout and Mr. Diggory to see if the Hufflepuff team might be able to play instead of Slytherin while you recover further?” 

Malfoy hesitated, there were many emotions which could be read in his expression, but the primary ones were regret, shame and worry. The Professor waited calmly until Malfoy had made up his mind, even drinking some tea while the boy thought his answer over. Finally, the blonde mage spoke up in a small voice, studying his cufflinks as he did. “If you could, Professor, I’d really appreciate it. Since it is such an important game to my Captain, I want to be able to give it my best and as it is now… I can’t do my best. I don’t want Slytherin to lose the game based on subpar performance on my part.”

The werewolf responded by smiling at him. “Very wise of you. One point to Slytherin.” He pulled out a small red book and noted down something in it. “I’ll arrange it for you, you simply have to focus on getting better.” 

“Thank you, Professor.” Malfoy’s voice was small as he replied, he seemed to have shrunk together in the chair, becoming physically smaller as well. Harry could tell that it was hard for him to admit weakness, even when it was simply a perceived one. He was distressed enough to not even smile over getting rewarded in the form of a House point. 

“Speaking of Quidditch, didn’t Parkinson make it onto the team this year?” Harry tried to switch to a different topic rather than allowing Malfoy to keep feeling bad about something which he really couldn’t help and had no reason to be ashamed of. 

“Oh yeah. She is surprisingly easy to deal with during practice.” Malfoy smiled at him, distinctively relieved to have something else to focus his mind on. “I was somewhat worried about meeting her alone, since Crabbe wasn’t accepted into the team this year, but she doesn’t seem that upset with me personally. I would assume that she is more trying to follow Crabbe than she actually feels upset about the topic.”

“Are you struggling with the students in your dormitory?” Remus didn’t enter the conversation like a voice of authority. Much like Neville, he carefully joined in by asking for more information, gently and kindly inserting himself into the discussion without forcing his way into it. 

Harry and Malfoy glanced at one another, Harry giving the other an encouraging little nod while the other boy looked nervous once more. The blonde mage licked his lips before speaking up. “They believe that I am responsible for what is currently happening to Hagrid. With him being evaluated by the Ministry and my father… pushing for the execution of the creature which hurt me.” Both relief and pain were mixing together in the boy’s eyes as he spoke the truth out loud, the two emotions twisting his otherwise pleasant features into a crude mask of composure to hide his sadness. 

Remus looked a little surprised but quickly composed himself. He thought for a few seconds, his brow furrowing while he considered what to say. “If things continue like this, and if they get worse, I would like you to tell me. I cannot change anyone’s opinion, but I might be able to help them understand the situation a little better. Many Professors I’ve spoken to have been worried about Hagrid’s promotion to a teaching position without the proper education. That is not to say that he isn’t competent in the subject, but every student in this school is a minor. If they are hurt at school grounds, well… I won’t bore you with legal protocols and precautions, but your father is acting as any parent should in a situation where a minor was exposed to unprecedented danger during a lesson. I believe it is quite needless to seek to kill the hippogriff but as a parent and an educated teacher, I agree that Hagrid must be reviewed so as to ensure the safety of the students. It was an accident, that much is very clear, but it was an accident which happened under the jurisdiction of someone else. It isn’t Hagrid’s fault, but the security which allowed it to happen must be evaluated and increased to avoid worse accidents in the future.” 

Harry gave him a smile which was by no means happy. He placed his knitting to the side before picking his teacup up with a subtle sigh. “I agree, but they are so worried about him being fired that they can’t see things as they are. It isn’t like he would be fired or removed from Hogwarts, they would still get to see him.” He stared at his crude reflection before taking a sip of the tea. “...I do understand that it means a lot to Crabbe and Goyle to see him succeed in life and become more than just a gamekeeper but… No, I… I feel like I’m being disrespectful no matter what I say.”

“It’s alright, Harry, you are not wrong in anything you are saying.” His dad encouraged him. “Sometimes things which seem simple can involve a lot of complex emotions, even if the best solution is evident to onlookers. I believe that they might also know that they are being unreasonable, but their emotions make them believe that they have the right to be. It might be better to have an adult address this conflict with them if it continues and you cannot solve it on your own.” 

The boys smiled at their Professor, both feeling encouraged by his words and the promise of help. 

“Thanks, dad.” Harry truly meant it. 

Remus returned the smile. “You are welcome.” 

There was a sudden knock on the door before their conversation could continue. The noise was somehow intrusive and demanding while it also sounded bored. Almost as if the person who knocked didn’t quite have the energy to be bothered knocking in the first place. 

“Come in.” Remus called, causing the two boys to turn towards the door. 

It opened, allowing Professor Snape to enter. He seemed a little surprised to see his two students in the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher’s office, but he quickly recovered in favor of his usual, generally displeased expression. He swept up to the werewolf’s side and handed him a potion bottle, one that was tinted in dark colors, making the liquid inside indistinguishable. Harry knew instinctively that it was the Lycanthropy potion, as Professor Snape had no reason to hand his dad anything else.

“Here is the extract of oxen blood which you requested for the vampire bats class which you requested to host.” The Potions Professor lied, showing no signs whatsoever of that he was lying. If Harry hadn’t been so certain of what was in the bottle, he would never have been able to figure out that the man was lying. 

Remus looked confused for a second but then smiled up at the other Professor. “Thank you. This will be well needed for that class.” He placed the potion on his desk with a collection of other bottles which already stood there. Harry noticed that most of them were labelled, whereas the Lycanthrophy bottle was not. “Would you like to have a cup of tea with us?” He continued to ask, looking up at the man with polite expectation in his eyes. Despite his dad and the man both appearing very professional in their manners and speaking, Harry noticed a happiness and hopefulness in his dad’s voice which only seemed to seep into it when he was with Professor Snape. 

“Alas, I am preoccupied with other engagements.” The Potions Master’s voice was equally clear and dry as usual, if not even drier than when he usually spoke. “Good day, students.” He acknowledged Harry’s and Malfoy’s presence before sweeping towards the door once more, it opened for him and then shut behind him as the man waved his wand for both actions. All in all, it seemed as if he had only been there for a few seconds, but Remus still couldn’t keep himself from staring longingly after him. 

“Professor? May I ask a question?” Malfoy stared at the man, his manners and the expression on his face having become far politer than before. Judging by the change in mannerisms, it seemed that he expected his question to be controversial or uncomfortable. 

“Of course.” Remus straightened up, looking somewhat more tense but nonetheless welcoming as he turned towards the young Malfoy. “I do always encourage questions, as I’m certain you know.” He smiled towards the boy, a smile which was equal parts inviting as it was polite. 

“While it is not my place to in any way question these particular occurrences, I have been unable to avoid noticing that they are, in fact, reoccurring. I have asked Lupin about it and have received no answer in particular, thus I feel like I should express myself to you personally, Professor. As you are a friend of the family, as is Professor Snape, I would simply want to know, before I make any assumptions…” Malfoy continued to ramble himself through a sentence which was equally polite as it was evasive, finally reaching a point where he felt safe asking the question he wanted to ask. “Is there anything happening between you and Professor Snape?” 

Remus stuttered in response. The look on his face was so very amusing to his son that the boy snorted, only to hide behind his hand when his dad gave him a pleading look. The werewolf’s cheeks turned somewhat red, highlighting his scars as his eyes flickered around the room, seemingly searching for an escape. As he found no means of evasion from the question, he shut his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths before he could regain his composure. During that time, Malfoy looked to Harry to confirm that he hadn’t made a big mistake, to which Harry responded by waving his hand, showing that his dad would be fine. 

“Allow me to be as clear as I can,” Remus finally composed himself enough to respond to the question. “I knew Professor Snape as a teenager, during that time, we were somewhat involved with one another. However, as adults, we have no such relationship whatsoever. We hadn’t talked for about fifteen years before Harry began attending Hogwarts. I do not know him as anything other than a colleague and I do not want any rumors circulating about us being anything other than that.” He looked somewhat sternly at the two boys before his expression softened and he leaned back in his chair with a sigh, no longer looking at them but staring towards the empty wall on his left. 

Malfoy looked almost offended at the insinuation that he would spread rumors about his best friend’s dad and his favorite Professor. He was far too politically aware to not realise what negative effects rumors like that would have on both men’s professional integrities. 

“I simply… I suppose it isn’t fair to be dismissive, I would very much like to speak to him some more. He is doing a lot for me this year, in assisting me and asking for nothing in return. He won’t even allow me the time to share a cup of tea with him. I get the feeling that he is running away from me, just… taking the work and escaping. I fear that I make him uncomfortable, and I’m not entirely sure if my fears are even justified in the first place.”

The way Remus sounded was similar to how Malfoy had sounded just a little earlier. It was as if the man felt the need to confess or speak the words out loud, but hadn’t had anyone to turn to.  
  
Harry glanced over at Malfoy, whose eyes seemed to have lit up with some sort of understanding or realisation. The blonde boy looked somewhere in between pleased with himself and attentively polite as he studied Harry’s dad. The boy waited a few more seconds, drank some of his tea, then spoke again. “I understand. It shall of course not be mentioned outside of this room. However, if I may continue,” Draco paused, waiting for his teacher to make a gesture to allow him to speak further. Remus nodded, even if he was still staring at the wall.  
  
“The impression which the two of you gave me during last year’s winter Holidays seemed to be one of long term friends, rather than strangers or colleagues. Were you not quite a bit closer back then?” Malfoy sounded ever so polite. This seemed to be the sort of topic and form of advising which he was well versed in. Harry was quite certain his posture and expression mimicked at least one of his parents, probably his mother. His father didn’t seem like the type who was especially competent at advising people. 

Remus glanced back towards the boys for a moment. There was a look of guilt in his eyes, one which Harry assumed to be because his dad didn’t usually feel all too comfortable confessing to his emotions. Harry could only imagine how strange it must be for an adult to confide in thirteen year olds, even if Malfoy appeared far beyond his years, calmly studying the man’s expressions.  
  
“Yes I-...” the man started, sighed and pulled a hand through his hair, seemingly a bit frustrated. “I suppose you’re not wrong.” Remus smiled weakly at Malfoy, seemingly having resigned to the boy’s polite persistence. “Last year was very pleasant. It was quite difficult to meet again after all this time, but it did seem as if we could at least become friends once more after those days. I enjoyed my conversations with Se- Snape very much that evening.” The adult bit his lower lip before averting his eyes once more. “However, upon coming to Hogwarts this year, it seems he has resolved to avoid me altogether. He does not appear to want to speak to me or find himself in the same room as me longer than necessary. I-... well I don’t know what to make of it,” Remus laughed nervously, clearly uncomfortable. “He is doing far more than required of him, assisting me and helping me, but he isn’t even allowing me to thank him or speak to him.” The speech ended with a sigh. 

Harry found that his dad did look very uncomfortable about confessing, so the son of a werewolf smiled at him, equally encouraging as he had with Malfoy once he dared confessing. Two thirteen year olds might not be the ideal comfort in an adult’s situation, but hopefully they could help at least a little bit.  
  
Malfoy nodded once more, “I understand.”   
  
For a few moments, the boy thought hard and long about the topic at hand. Harry almost got the feeling that he was thinking back, analysing the situation. However, there was some hesitation, as if he was reluctant about what to say, maybe even considering if he was allowed to bring the topic up.  
  
At last, the boy sighed as well, and spoke up. “Mother says that-... Professor Snape worries her. Well, actually she has been saying that for some time. He is a dear friend to the family, and mother in particular, and yet he keeps everyone, even his closest associates, at an arm’s length. She says that he does far too much for the people around him, and asks for far too little in return, almost as if he’s punishing himself. Normally, a man with his intellect wouldn’t be the fool to be used by the people around himself. He never quite stops working, and never quite allows himself rest. He always appears unhappy in some manner, or distressed about something which he keeps from those around him. In a sense, I suppose mother thinks he’s lonely, and it is worrying her to see him shut himself away from each and everyone around him, as he has never told anyone why.” 

This whole situation was rather unconventional, and yet to Harry, it seemed perfectly normal and natural to have the conversation. Malfoy’s words were beyond doubt a personal confession, one which the blonde mage was entrusting father and son with despite the private nature of the confession.

“Last year I-... do not believe I have ever seen Professor Snape the way he behaved when speaking to you during that dinner.” Malfoy was still phrasing himself relatively slowly and carefully, very reminiscent of his mother in weighing his words meticulously before uttering them. “I assumed there to be something more between you, as he is, to my knowledge, never quite that relaxed around anyone.” 

“Truly?” Remus’ voice was hopeful when he asked, his eyes longing yet displaying disbelief as he looked to the young wizard for confirmation about the Potions Master. “I… Thank you.” He managed to stutter out, recalling in his happiness that the boys were still there. “Once more, I do apologise for this whole scenario, and ask that you do not discuss these matters with anyone else or outside this office.” 

Harry and Malfoy both nodded at his words. “You do not have to apologise, Professor. I am the one who asked something so very personal.” 

“I’m not telling anyone, dad.” Harry promised. 

Remus smiled at them both, his expression was somewhat awkward, yet he was clearly relieved to have been able to ease his mind of his worries in regards to Professor Snape. He began saying something, but the door flew open before his sounds managed to form words, loudly slamming into the wall. 

“Remus.” The Potions Master was standing in the door, although he was not out of breath, it was visible on his appearance that he had been running. His voice was sharp and demanding, like he wasn’t speaking a name but wielding it to give an order. Nobody in the room failed to notice that he had used the man’s first name rather than address him by his surname. “Lupin.” The man quickly corrected himself, looking from the students to the teacher. It seemed the distress over the situation made the man slip up in a manner he himself hadn’t expected. “Get them to the Great Hall and remain there. Every student is to gather there, we need teachers to stand guard by all the doors. You will know more later. Draw your wand.” 

He made to leave but was halted by the werewolf’s voice, as Remus rose to his feet. “What has happened?” 

The Potions Master glanced at the two boys before addressing the man. “Black has broken into the castle.” He didn’t stay to observe the reaction to his words, but left in a hurry. 

Harry turned to his dad, unable to control the look of worry which had infected his face. Next to him, Malfoy looked purely frightened. The werewolf’s expression was one of surprise, shock, and determination. He looked back at the two children before giving them a soft smile. “I’m with you. He will not be able to hurt you. Gather your things, we are moving to the Hall. I will walk behind you, but do not turn any corners without allowing me to check first.” 

The two students followed his lead as he looked outside the door before allowing them to exit. The walk to the Great Hall was quick and without any incidents, and yet it felt far longer than it should have. Harry felt similar to how he had felt as he sneaked through the corridors during his first year when a troll had entered the school. His breathing was shallow and quick, his heart beating so fast it caused his chest to ache as the blood pumping in his veins seemed to counter out his ability to hear properly. Everywhere he looked, he imagined the face of the man who had betrayed his dad, fearing that Black might appear at any moment to try and hurt him or Malfoy. He felt like it was hard to think and even harder to move, if he hadn’t had Malfoy pulling him along and his dad to lead the way and protect them, Harry wasn’t certain if he would have made it anywhere. 

The Great Hall was already filled with people as they arrived. There seemed to be a lot of Gryffindor students there already, many of them were young, either first years or second years. Harry noticed Colin Creevey and his camera, but luckily the boy was too far away to notice him. 

Remus moved the two of them to the center of the room, easily cutting past the students due to being far taller than most of them. He turned towards his son and the son’s best friend. “I want you to stay as much in the center of the room as you can, make sure to be surrounded by people on every side. Whatever you do, don’t leave the room and stay together.” The man summarised quickly before he left them to fulfill his duties, even though he clearly wanted to remain by his son’s side. 

Malfoy nodded, holding on to Harry’s hand as the man left them. Harry swallowed, already feeling uncomfortable with the loudness of the room. He groaned subtly before turning to Malfoy, leaning to hide against his shoulder, just like he had hidden from the loud world after falling from the stands last year. It felt good to hide, the comfort and darkness helped soothe the effects of his stressed mind. 

“It’s alright, Lupin.” Malfoy’s familiar voice filled his ears as his scent filled his nose. It assisted Harry in feeling calmer, he could already feel his heart return to its original pace. Malfoy squeezed his hand, reminding him that he was there. “It’s alright.” 

They stood silent together, Harry listening to the volume of the Great Hall increase as more and more people entered it. He heard how Malfoy greeted someone, making him look up and over to see Hermione and Neville come towards them. Judging by their clothes, they had come straight from Hogsmeade, as they were still wearing their jackets and scarves. The two of them looked uncomfortable but relieved to have found their friends. 

“They sent us straight here.” Hermione explained as soon as they were close enough to speak to one another without yelling over the crowd. “Black has broken into Hogwarts, and he tried to get into the Gryffindor common room. The portrait on the door was completely slashed to pieces! The Lady is fine, but this is terrible!” The girl rambled, trying to communicate what she knew but ended up hurriedly describing bits and pieces here and there. Nonetheless, Harry and Malfoy both understood what she was saying. 

“Try to breathe.” Malfoy carefully instructed her, raising his free hand to calmly gesture for her to lower her voice. “Was he trying to break into the Gryffindor common room?” He asked Neville instead as Hermione tried to take deep breaths. 

The boy nodded, his face was pale but color was beginning to return to his face. “Yes, judging by what we were told. It doesn’t seem like he made it inside since he didn’t have the password.” The group moved closer together, whispering as to not be listened in on. Many other groups were doing the same thing, blocking themselves off to speak somewhat more privately. “Are you alright, Harry?” Neville gave him a worried look, one which was mimicked by Hermione. 

“Y-yeah. Well, no. I’m getting there.” Harry confessed in a small voice. “I do feel better with you here though. Did you see any of our Slytherin classmates return?” 

The group seemed happy to know that they were making Harry feel better just by being there, Hermione in particular seemed happy to know that she was helping despite not actively doing anything. 

“They did return alongside everyone else from Hogsmeade. I didn’t see where they went but I did see them enter the Great Hall.” The girl summarised. 

“I saw Zabini and Nott move somewhere over there.” Neville waved his hand to the left, Harry glanced where he was vaguely pointing but realised that he was too short to be able to spot them in the crowd. 

Malfoy seemed to yet again be deep in thought, leaving the discussion about the other Slytherin students to his other friends. “But why was Black trying to get into the Gryffindor common room? If he is after Lupin, why would he be up there rather than search for him in the dungeons?” 

The group looked towards him, sharing his confusion. 

“You are… right.” Harry agreed. “Maybe he thinks that I’m a Gryffindor since, well, my dad was.” He frowned. “I suppose both my dads were? And my mom?” He accidentally made his words seem like questions as he was struggling to adjust to the idea that he technically had two dads and a mom, while he mostly thought of them as his birth parents. To call them dad and mom made them feel so much closer to him than they had ever been, it almost felt disrespectful of him to call them that, yet Harry wasn’t sure if it was disrespectful towards Remus or James and Lily Potter. 

“He might think so yes. I used to think that a person was only ever sorted into the House of their parents, but I was clearly wrong.” Malfoy sighed, displeased to think about or discuss something which he had believed in so firmly just a year ago. However, he could admit to being wrong, which has been close to impossible for him when he first began at Hogwarts. 

“It seems that he has gotten his hands on a knife.” Hermione continued to speak about Black, somewhat switching topics. “The portrait was cut up, according to what Nearly Headless Nick said when speaking to Professor McGonagall. But that probably means that he hasn’t had access to a wand, or he would probably have tried to blow the wall to pieces rather than attack the portrait.” She shuddered but managed to continue speaking. “At the very least, we know that he has a blade should he try to attack Harry and Malfoy. It might not seem calming, and knives are indeed very dangerous, but it does give us an idea of what he might try and do. You should speak to your dad about ways to magically handle someone trying to attack you with a blade.” 

“That is a great idea, Hermione. I certainly will ask him that.” Harry tried to be enthusiastic, but it was hard to feel energetic about anything while he found himself in such a state of distress and worry. He could feel that he was trembling slightly, but did his best to ignore it in favor of trying to remain calm. She once again looked happy that her suggestion was listened to and appreciated. 

The group continued to chat back and forth, with Harry mostly relying on Malfoy to not be overwhelmed by the noise around them. Their discussion moved from Black to Hogsmeade, which was a more welcome topic to all of them. More and more groups came to sit down on the floor rather than remain standing. The quartet of friends did the same when they reached the conclusion that the teachers weren’t allowing them to leave anytime soon. 

Neville and Hermione talked about what they had seen and what they had done, informing them of what candy they had bought at Honeydukes. They produced some lemon and honey caramels for Malfoy, a bar of pumpkin chocolate for Harry as well as normal chocolate in the shape of little pumpkins. Even in his state of depression, Harry found himself excited about the chocolate pumpkins. Further, they had gotten some Sugar Quills and Licorice Wands to share, as well as a Cockroach Clusters. They explained that they had used the rest of the money to buy a bar of Honeydukes Best Chocolate for Remus, as they felt guilty over eating most of his storage of chocolate by the beginning of the term. Malfoy highly approved of that purchase. 

After the students had been gathered in the Hall for about two hours, Professor Dumbledore appeared to discuss what was currently unfolding and why they were all waiting in the Great Hall. He honestly informed the students that a highly sought after criminal had managed to find his way into Hogwarts and had yet to be located. He explained where the attack had taken place and what precautions were currently being taken to protect the students. Dinner would be served as normally, but then the Hall would be repurposed as a giant bedroom for all students, who would be guarded by the teachers as trained Aurors searched through the building during the night. 

Many were disappointed to not be allowed to return to their dormitories and beds, but there was little else they could do. Harry, Malfoy, Hermione and Neville decided to try and pretend that they were having an exciting sleepover together. Although it didn’t quite fool any of them, it was at least fun to be allowed to sleep next to whoever they wanted without having to limit themselves to who was in the same House as them. Harry fell asleep cuddled up to Malfoy that night, like he often did during the times when nothing else could make him relax. 


	10. Chapter 9 - In which Albus Dumbledore talks about his favorite candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blonde wizard hesitated but then asked another question to the Headmaster. “Sir, what House did you belong to when you attended Hogwarts?” 
> 
> “Now, Mr. Malfoy, whoever said I ever attended Hogwarts as a young wizard?” The man almost hummed, once more appearing mischievous as he smiled at the former Pureblood supremacist.

Nobody really slept well that night. The teachers were up well into the night and the students tried to make do with sleeping on thin mattresses with thin blankets. Most people complained about their backs or sides hurting during breakfast. It would probably have been funny to see the scene of sleepy students absently crawling onto their places by the House tables, more or less dropping their heads into their breakfast and starting to eat, had it not been for the circumstances which brought them there.

Hermione’s hair was bigger than ever before, almost defying gravity as she slowly sat up next to Harry whose hair was equally messy but on a lesser scale, he also had a big red mark in his face from where he had been sleeping on his best friend’s arm. Malfoy’s hair was completely flat on one side and stood up on the other to his great displeasure. As for Neville, his hair was comparatively the same as always, he appeared rather normal except for the big shoe mark he had in his face after having used one of his shoes to get his pillow to a higher position. The quartet looked at one another and chuckled at each other’s appearances, finding comfort that they all looked equally unkempt.

They were allowed to leave the Great Hall after breakfast, during which the Headmaster explained that Black hadn’t been found anywhere inside the castle. He had denied the Ministry of Magic’s proposal to allow Dementors to patrol Hogwarts, instead requested Aurors, but the request had only been granted temporarily. He also addressed that although Remus’ Dementor lessons were supposed to start that Monday, they would be postponed by two weeks.

Malfoy was supposed to have Quidditch practice that day, but they weren’t allowed outside the castle since Black was still suspected to be close. The boy was upset about not being allowed to practice, but as Harry reminded him that Gryffindor would be playing Hufflepuff in two weeks and that his team didn’t explicitly need the practice badly right now, he found it easier to accept.

For the next two weeks, everyone seemed to be talking about Black. There was much discussion over how he had gotten inside Hogwarts, some seemingly reasonable while others were beyond ridiculous. Harry tried very hard to avoid speaking with anyone about Black, even his closest friends. The quartet had decided to not discuss the escaped prisoner if they could avoid it, as it weighed heavily on all their minds. They only talked about him if they felt like they absolutely needed to communicate something, but otherwise preferred to speak of other matters.

The first Quidditch game of the season was approaching with Gryffindor VS. Hufflepuff, as arranged by Remus, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout and Professor Snape. Some members of the Hufflepuff team were apparently displeased with their role as replacement for the Slytherin team, but their Captain, Cedric Diggory, has accepted the suggestion without any objections.

Malfoy was excited about the game, but also uncertain about how he should attend said game. Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson were still not on speaking terms with him. Blaise and Nott weren’t attending at all. Flint was going to cheer for his boyfriend Wood, but Malfoy and the teenager weren’t exactly friends. Thus asking to go with someone so much older than him felt strange to the blonde mage, making him hesitate to ask at all. He was welcomed to go with Hermione and Neville, but it was evident that he felt insecure and possibly frightened in regards to the idea of attending the Gryffindor stand as a lone Slytherin along the Gryffindors. Harry wanted to make his friend happy so he asked his dad if he could come with them to the game. Remus was not entirely sure about the idea, but after some discussion with the Headmaster, both Harry and Malfoy were allowed in the teachers’ stand alongside the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.

The day of the game came, and Malfoy could barely contain himself with excitement as he, Harry and Remus separated from Hermione and Neville to head towards the teachers’ stand. Malfoy didn’t quite show excitement in a conventional way, yet Harry could always tell when he was truly passionate about something. There was this gleam in his eyes, he had a purpose to his steps, and a certain attentiveness in his body language. He was usually smiling too, but in a different way than when he was simply happy. Harry found it hard to explain his smile, but it was as if he was smiling for himself, for his own sake, rather than to communicate happiness to somebody else.

The game began with some rain but it quickly picked up as the teams played. It wasn’t storming but the rain was increasingly becoming heavier and heavier. Remus and Harry were both rather uncomfortable with the fact that the game was not suspended, but they seemed to be a minority with their opinion.

The two boys were assigned seats in between Professor McGonagall and Remus, with Malfoy seated next to the woman and Harry next to his dad. Throughout the game, the deputy Headmistress and the blonde boy were getting increasingly excited about the game, cheering or booing as if they had been practicing their reactions together.

Harry did his best to follow the game, but he still didn’t quite understand what was happening. The ball moved back and forth, bells dinged to signal points, and the commentator was yelling. The rain made it hard to see as well, adding to Harry’s confusion. He was glad that Malfoy wasn’t playing today, seeing as the conditions were rather awful.

The game continued on with Gryffindor in the lead, it seemed that they truly had improved from practicing together with the Slytherin team. There seemed to be some commotion by the Gryffindor stands but from his position in the teachers’ stand, Harry couldn’t quite tell what was happening, the rain certainly wasn’t helping.

The arena was getting colder and colder from the rain, Harry was protected by an umbrella which did keep the rain off him, but somehow, the cold was still getting to him. It was as if it was ignoring his clothes and chilling him from his core. No, not his core, his insides. Harry turned towards his dad, who suddenly stood up, appearing like a dog who had just caught the scent of its prey. Remus' eyes widened, his body tense and his body language attentive. His breath escaped from his lips and to the boy’s surprise and fear, he realised that he could see the hot air turn to vapor as the man breathed out.

From beyond the stands swept a hooded figure, appearing dark fog as it effortlessly swept past above them, onto the arena. The first was followed by a second one, appearing from under another stand. Remus pulled his wand out of its assigned pocket, and he was not the only one. Many Professors got to their feet as well, all of them planning on casting the same spell.

“Expecto Patronum.” Harry’s dad was the first to cast his spell. From the tip of his wand sprung a shape, at first, it seemed to be a large dog, it honed in on the closest Dementor, chasing it from the Quidditch player it had been chasing. The creature made a noise and retreated backwards, followed by the large canine.

“Expecto Patronum!” A feline sprung from Professor McGonagall’s wand, dashing towards the Gryffindor stands to protect them from the monsters which were approaching them. It moved swiftly and quickly, throwing itself into combat to defend the students.

Then, Professor Dumbledore himself stood up, bringing his wand forward. Harry could almost feel the magic around them move as the old wizard swung his wand, pronouncing the same spell as the two teachers. “Expecto Patronum!”

The light which followed was blinding, the stand seemed to tremble underneath Harry’s feet as a phoenix shaped patronus sprung from the tip of his wand. Time seemed to halt as the burning manifestation of the man’s very soul spread its wings and flew. Even the rain appeared as if stopped upon the bird moving through it, approaching the closest Dementor which fled in terror, screaming. Its call alerted the other ones, who froze in place before looking up at the phoenix which was approaching them, then they scattered, flying for their lives as the bird swept after them, followed by both the canine and the feline.

The Headmaster lowered his wand, watching his patronus chase the dark creatures away from his students and the arena. His hands were shaking and he was out of breath. The man had previously remained dry despite the rain but after casting that spell, the raindrops began to soak into his hair, beard and clothing. Harry moved without thinking, offering the man his and Remus’ umbrella, as the Headmaster sat down heavily upon the bench once more. The old wizard gave Harry a small smile, which appeared almost excusing in nature. Harry wanted to object, to tell the man that he had nothing to apologise for, but he also didn’t know why the man appeared so apologetic in the first place.

“Professors, do gather the students back inside and take anyone who might need it to the hospital wing. Make sure the players are safe and accounted for.” Professor Dumbledore ordered, while his voice was strong and his words clear, there was a breathlessness to it. “I shall keep Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Lupin safe with me. Thank you.”

The adults around him followed his instructions, with Remus quickly nodding to Harry and Malfoy before leaving the stand with the rest of the Professors to fulfill his duties. The son of a werewolf remained by the Headmaster’s side, holding the umbrella over him as his best friend came to take a seat next to the man. Apparently Malfoy didn’t quite feel like standing.

The three of them were quiet as they looked out over the arena which was slowly being emptied of people. A teacher got a hold of the commentator’s microphone and was able to inform the gathered people that the game was suspended. Harry found himself feeling strange where he stood next to the greatest mage of a century, holding an umbrella over his head as the man observed his students move about before them. It felt like standing next to a king who was observing the ruins of his kingdom. The Headmaster was silent and serious, trying to hide his shaking hands in his robes but not quite managing.

“Sir?” Harry carefully asked, making the old man look up at him with a soft look in his eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Lupin?” His voice was gentle and inviting, no longer breathless but still appearing weak somehow. Weak and ancient.

“When is your birthday?” Harry blurted out, not really planning on asking but finding the words leaving him without having the chance to think his question through.

The old wizard blinked but his expression quickly turned into a soft, amused one. “August 26th. Is that of any importance?”

“Oh…” Harry realised that he had missed it but quite a lot. “Well…” He hesitated but managed to find a way to say what he had been thinking about but not really daring to admit to be thinking about. “I’m learning how to knit right now, and I’m working on making socks for, well, my friends and family. I sort of wanted to give you a present to thank you for everything you’ve done for me and my dad. I’m not sure when they will be finished but… would that be alright? If I gave you a pair of socks, I mean?”

The man’s eyes gleamed with amusement as he chuckled. “I’d be delighted to accept your gift but you do not have to by any means. I have only done what I think is right, you are not indebted to me in any way.”

“Neither do I think I am.” Harry smiled back. “I just thought that it would be fun since I only have so many people I can give socks to.”

The man chuckled again, sounding much akin to a grandfather who was amused by his grandchild’s words. “Have you yet received your socks then, Mr. Malfoy?”

The boy jerked, woken up from his thoughts by the old wizard speaking to him. “My socks? Oh, no, Lupin has yet to make them. Although I have seen him work on a pair for Granger.” He caught himself and got involved with the discussion. The blonde wizard hesitated but then asked another question to the Headmaster. “Sir, what House did you belong to when you attended Hogwarts?”

“Now, Mr. Malfoy, whoever said I ever attended Hogwarts as a young wizard?” The man almost hummed, once more appearing mischievous as he smiled at the former Pureblood supremacist.

Malfoy’s jaw dropped, the thought that the Headmaster had never attended Hogwarts was so utterly balling that he didn’t seem capable of comprehending it.

The old wizard let him remain in a state of shock for a few seconds before he chuckled once more, waving his hand with an amused look on his face. “When I was young, I had every quality of a Gryffindor. Then, I grew older and began to harness a desire for knowledge and a thirst for success, making me every bit a Slytherin. Then, I grew wiser and learned of my prejudice and folly, adapting the mindset of a proper Ravenclaw. And today, I do believe most people would think I’d make a most excellent Hufflepuff. Why, I sometimes put the Sorting Hat on and ask what has changed inside my head and what House it would currently sort me into. Last I did it, it threatened to drop Godric Gryffindor’s sword onto my head if I didn’t stop misusing its powers and let it go back to sleep.” He laughed to himself, clearly finding the topic most humorous.

Harry was struggling to understand what he meant with the hat being capable of dropping one of the founders of Hogwarts's artifacts onto him, but he almost felt rude to ask the old man to explain himself. Thus, Harry simply made a note of the location of the legendary sword and simply continued listening to the man speak.

Professor Dumbledore turned back to Malfoy, giving him a wise and playful smile. “So you see, during different aspects of my life, I was sorted into a different House. However much we’d like to pretend, people don’t stay the same throughout their lives. Asking me what House I belonged to as a child has so little worth that you’d gain far more information about me by asking for my favorite candy.”

“What is your favorite candy?” Harry asked, unable to resist the impulse which told him that the Headmaster wanted him to ask.

“Sherbet lemons, as of currently. It is a Muggle candy which I’m quite fond of.” The man explained. “What are your favorite candies?” He returned the question.

“Chocolate.” Harry answered within a heartbeat, grinning. “Did you know that Honeydukes have pumpkin shaped chocolate this year? They are really cute.” He continued, unable to be just a little excited about the shape of the chocolate pieces.

“Truly? I must see if they still have them now that Halloween has passed.” The man promised them both. The old wizard and Harry then turned to Malfoy, who appeared surprised by the attention.

“I… What, my favorite candy?” He echoed, looking back and forth between them. The was clearly still rather startled by the recent revelations, and had a harder time catching up.

Harry nodded as the Headmaster maintained a relaxed appearance. His hands had stopped trembling, instead resting upon his lap.

Malfoy thought for a while, then responded with “Crystallised Pineapple or some manner of lemon-honey flavored candy. I don’t trust Honeydukes to maintain quality Crystallised Pineapple out here in… nowhere.” He waved his hand towards the Forbidden Forest and the lake. “As it is quite perishable of a snack.”

“You… really like sugar, huh?” Harry smirked at him, finding some joy in teasing his otherwise mature friend.

The insecure wizard huffed at him. “You really like pumpkin, don’t you?”

“I do.” Harry agreed. “Maybe there could be Crystallised Pumpkin?” He thought out loud, adapting an expression of deep thought.

“Absolutely not, you vile criminal.” Malfoy countered him so quickly that Harry couldn’t help but laugh. The other boy quickly joined in on the laughter as their Headmaster observed them both with a prideful look in his eyes.

“I do believe the arena has been emptied.” The old wizard rose to his feet, brushing himself off. “Should I take you to the infirmary or your common room?”

“The infirmary?” Malfoy echoed, frowning at the man. “Why would we go there?”

“Harry.” Remus reappeared by the stairs, returning to the stand with his wand in his hand. He was somewhat out of breath, likely from having run around quite some. “Good, you are still here. It seems Ronald Weasley once again fainted from being so close to the Dementors. He has been taken to the infirmary, yet I… I have something I must do.” His comment was vague, almost dismissive. “Headmaster, would you please see my wards to their common room?” He pleaded with the old wizard, who nodded in response.

“Of course, run along.”

Remus gave him a thankful smile, quickly telling his son that he loved him, and then hurriedly ran down the stairs, more likely than not returning to the castle.

“How curious… I wonder why he was in such a hurry.” Malfoy tried to cross his arms over his chest but almost dropped his umbrella in the attempt, thus quitting before he did.

“I don’t know, but if he had to do it now, it is definitely important.” Harry did feel somewhat strange to see his dad hurry off in that manner, but he also knew that the man would never leave him in a position where Harry was in danger. Professor Dumbledore was more than capable of protecting them from both Dementors and Black, which made the son of a werewolf trust that he and Malfoy were safe with him.

“Did he just call us his wards?” The blonde mage licked his lips, looking uncertain about how to feel in regards to the utterance.

Harry grinned back. “I think he did.”

“Oh.” Some red color stained the pale boy’s cheeks as he responded with nothing but a noise.

“So where are we off to?” The old wizard began walking, stepping out from under the umbrella. Harry and Malfoy both watched him, noticing that the rain was no longer making staining his robes or wetting his hair. “Infirmary or common room? I believe that Mr. Weasley could use some friends right about now.”

“We’re not friends with Weasley.” Malfoy responded without hesitation, only to later appear somewhat embarrassed over his immature utterance towards a Professor.

“Oh?” The man began walking down the stairs, looking around to remain attentive for any possible danger to his students. “I must have mistook you for friends since you saved his life last year. I wrongly presupposed that you would have become friends after that.” He waved for them to follow and began leading them towards the castle. The two Slytherin students quickly followed so as to not be left behind.

Malfoy sighed, rolling his eyes at the comment while Harry couldn’t help but nod in agreement as the man did have a point.

“We’re not really friends, but I guess his real friends are kind of… lacking in support.” Harry admitted. “Professor, is there anything that can be done about Weasley being bullied by his friends?” He had been planning on asking his dad about it, but since he hadn’t had the chance yet, Harry thought that the Headmaster might be able to give some advice.

“What indeed…?” The old wizard agreed in a subtle voice, his back turned to the two young students. “Bullying is a frightening topic in many ways, I shall inform the staff about Mr. Weasley being targeted, and discuss what can be done to help him. We shall do our best, but the most effective medicine against bullying is good friends, and sometimes even that isn’t enough. You have a good heart, Mr. Lupin, ten points to Slytherin for informing me of this. If you want to do more, and nobody is forcing you to, perhaps you could simply talk to him? Making him feel less lonely might help.”

Harry glanced at Malfoy who gave him a tired yet yielding look. He knew where Harry wanted to go next. “...Fine, fine. We shall do our humanitarian duty and go visit young Mr. Weasley.”

“Great!” Harry grabbed his arm, hugging it tightly while pulling the boy closer to himself. “Thank you, Malfoy.”

“Don’t thank me, I’m simply doing this for your sake, not out of the kindness of my heart.” Malfoy grumbled out a response as he lightly buffed Harry with his hip.

“You doing it for me is still you being kind, you know.” Harry retorted, still smiling. His comment earned him another eyeroll accompanied by a huff.

Ron Weasley didn’t appear to be relaxed when he was sleeping. On the contrary, he mumbled incoherently as his fingers twitched. Harry found himself wondering if he was having a nightmare. As he thought so, he recognised the name ‘Tom’ upon it leaving Weasley’s lips. That was all the evidence Harry needed to conclude that the boy was indeed having a nightmare.

Harry and Malfoy were standing next to the Weasley family, that was to say Left and Right Weasley, Prefect Weasley and Girl Weasley. The twins and the girl were both dressed in Quidditch gear, making Harry realise that she must have joined the Gryffindor team that year. The group were standing around Ron Weasley’s bed, most of them observing him with worried expressions on their faces while the two twins discussed the most proper prank to get back at a classmate of theirs for turning them in when they broke the rules.

The infirmary was surprisingly empty considering the Dementor attack on the Quidditch arena. Only Weasley had passed out, every flier seemed to have landed safely and no other students were harmed. Prefect Weasley had tried to hush the twins in the beginning but had now surrendered to simply watching over them to stop them if they tried to place anything funny in the infirmary or on their brother. Their sister was watching both Harry and Malfoy with a deep admiration and desire in her eyes, looking ever so interested in them. Neither of the two knew what to do or what to say, so they just sat there next to one another, both regretting coming there in the first place. Malfoy busied himself by playing with his cufflinks but Harry had no such thing to busy himself with.

Finally, Weasley stirred, opening his eyes with a dramatic gasp. It took him a few seconds to orient himself, but after he had the chance to do so, he recognised where he was. “Ughn…” He groaned in an undignified manner. “I’m back here again?”

“Yes… yes you are.” Prefect Weasley spoke first, handing his brother a glass of water which he took and drank from.

“What happened? I heard his voice again and I… I felt cold… Were the Dementors at the game?” He looked over at his siblings, only to spot Malfoy and Harry. Harry waved at him, really not sure what else he could do. “...Why are you… Did you come to see me?” He licked his lips, appearing confused but also somewhat happy to see them.

“Yes. It seems Professor Dumbledore noticed that you passed out and wanted us to inquire about your well being.” Malfoy’s response was honest and left no room for imagined friendship or commitment. However, he did agree that they had come to see him. Weasley seemed to miss that part as the expression on his face turned somewhat bitter.

“So we came to make certain that you were alright. I don’t have any chocolate on me right now but if I did, I would give it to you.” Harry hurriedly took over the conversation from Malfoy, trying to please the boy rather than give him reason to dislike them.

“Thanks, I guess…” Ron hesitated but gave them a small smile, one which seemed entirely false and uncertain, yet at the very least he made an attempt. He turned towards Girl Weasley. “Who won? Did you catch the Snitch?”

Seeker Weasley shook her head. “Nobody won, the Dementors showed up but they were chased away by Professor Dumbledore. He was furious, I think.”

As somebody who had been in the stand with the Headmaster, he had been angry at the Dementors for endangering his students, but Harry wouldn’t really have described him as furious by any means. The choice of word made it seem like his anger had been uncontrollable, yet that was not true.

“They are scheduling a rematch next week or so.” The Prefect explained, sounding very matter-of-factly as he spoke.

“Does… everyone know that I fainted?” The boy all but whispered, staring down at himself with a depressed look on his face. Harry supposed that the fainting could likely be one of the primary sources for bullying which the boy had to endure from his supposed friends. It left a disgusting taste in his mouth to think that the red haired boy had been exposed which he had no control over, and his friends' reactions were not to help or support him but to exploit that weakness for fun.

The Prefect hesitated before speaking. “Well, I don’t know that everyone knows, but you did faint on the stands and…”

“Great.” The boy interrupted him by sinking back into the bed and pulling his covers over his head.

Left and Right Weasley looked at one another and shrugged. “Well, now that we know you’re fine, we’re leaving.”

“Yeah, I need a shower badly. I swear I have water in my boots.” The other agreed.

“You should get washed up as well, Ginny.” The first addressed their sister. “Mom will blame us if you get a cold.”

“But I…” Seeker Weasley glanced towards Harry and Malfoy, it was not hard to see that she wanted to talk to them, or at the very least spend time around them, but the brothers more or less picked her up and pulled her along towards the door. They left a small dirt trail after them as they walked, as their boots were apparently more than a little dirty. That was a problem for someone else though, not Harry.

“Ron, if you would just talk to me about your problems, are you still scared by the prophecy about your death?” The eldest brother remained by his younger brother’s side. “I know that you are frightened by the legend of the Grim, and you think that Uncle Bilius was killed by witnessing one, but-”

“I did see it for real, Percy!” The boy appeared once more from within the blankets, his face red as his eyes wet with emotion. “I didn’t imagine it, I saw it again, just before the Dementors showed up, it is an omen!”

“You saw the Grim?” Malfoy stared at the boy, his face twisted into a look of disbelief and disapproval.

“What is… the Grim?” Harry questioned out loud, looking at the gathered people with a look of confusion. He had never heard it mentioned before but judging by the name, it seemed to be something unpleasant.

“It’s nonsense, it’s just a legend.” Prefect Weasley huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s just a story about a large, black dog, which is a supposed omen of death. In my opinion, death isn’t as predictable as that, and having a large spectral beast show up just to tell a person that they are about to die is nonsense. Then more people would know the beast to be a fact and there wouldn’t be any need to discuss its existence or not.”

“It was real enough to kill Uncle Bilius.” Weasley objected, staring at his brother with a look of defiance in his eyes.

“Uncle Bilius was an alcoholic and a lunatic. He fell off a chair and died by accident. The day I believe anything that man has seen is the day I resign from logic!” The Prefect raised his voice but realised that he had, quickly quieting down again. He groaned before pinching the bridge of his nose and stood up, shaking his head. “I must get back to fulfill my duties as Head Boy. Excuse me.” He more or less rose from his chair and swept away, half running and half stomping from the hospital wing.

Harry and Malfoy were left alone with a fuming Weasley, who laid back down on the bed with an angry noise. The two Slytherin students glanced at one another, both of them sharing the suspicion that the Grim was something entirely different than what Weasley thought he saw.

Harry licked his lips. “Say… Weasley? Would you tell us more about that dog?”

“Huh? Why would you want to know about it?” His voice made it seem like the boy had completely forgotten that they were there.

“I’ve never heard of a Grim before, if you could describe it for me, that would be very helpful.” Harry lied through his teeth, quickly making up an excuse. He felt guilty about lying but he couldn’t exactly admit all the things he knew about Black to the stranger who was Weasley. He couldn’t trust that the boy would react in a reasonable manner and keep the secret for the sake of protecting the animals who would be hunted down if the Wizarding World learnt of Black’s animagus shape.

Weasley hesitated. “I… Well… I was leaving for school, we were all coming here. I was having problems sleeping the day before leaving when I heard this noise from outside the window, my room is kind of high up and so I was confused about hearing something from outside.” He summarised in a somewhat unclear way, but Harry and Malfoy could both follow what he was saying. “So I got up and I looked outside and I saw this huge, black dog in the fields. It was staring at our house with yellow eyes, staring at me…” His voice broke as his distress rose. He stopped to swallow. “I checked again and it was gone, but the next day there were all these footprints in the garden, from a huge dog. It had eaten a bunch of vegetables and left huge scratch marks on the door. Normal dogs just aren’t that big.” He shuddered, looking away from them. “It was trying to get in. I know it was.”

Harry tried not to glance at Malfoy, who appeared to be just as uncomfortable as Harry was. They both assumed that the dog was Black, yet they struggled to find reasons as to why Black would find the Weasley home and try to get in. It could be that the red haired boy had mistaken a normal stray dog for the Grim, and that it had nothing to do with Black at all.

“Did you see the same dog today?” Malfoy didn’t so much ask as he made a demand, yet he seemed to realise that he should have found a more pleasant way of phrasing it as to not encourage resistance in the boy.

“I… mhn…” Weasley hesitated. “So when I was in Divination class, our teacher looked into my teacup and saw the leaves arranged like the Grim. Then… well…” He licked his lips before continuing. “During the game, I saw it. It came from the woods, creeping low to the ground as it approached. It was fixated on the arena, on the people flying, as it approached them. It felt as if it was trying to make them fall, or knew that they would fall if it could only get close enough. I felt it looking straight at me and then… the Dementors showed up. When I looked again, it was gone. It had the same glowing, yellow eyes. It had to be the same creature.”

“If there is a dark creature roaming around Hogwarts, we should tell Professor Lupin.” Malfoy stood up, his appearance was calm and collected, yet Harry could tell that he was in a hurry to leave.

“You… are right, yes.” Harry understood what his friend meant, causing him to get to his feet as well. “We should go tell dad. You just rest up and we’ll see you tomorrow. Dad will hold his Dementor lessons soon, you should definitely come.”

They both began walking towards the door, leaving a confused Weasley in his bed, looking after the two Slytherins as they hurried away from him. He seemed confused and surprised with their hurried escape, perhaps even somewhat wounded that they had left him in such a hurry after he had dared to confess to them about the Grim which he assumed to be haunting him.


	11. Chapter 10 - In which Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail proudly presents the Marauders' Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It shows anyone, I mean, everyone… always?” Malfoy stared at the map, his expression had gone from impressed to somewhat frightened. He appeared highly uncomfortable with the idea of always being seen.

Harry and Malfoy ran to Remus’ office. They were in such a hurry to report about Black and what they had learnt from Weasley that they forgot that they weren’t supposed to move around in the castle on their own. Still, they did, and arrived at the man’s office short of breath.

“Dad!” Harry accidentally slammed the door open, causing the man to look up from his desk.

However, the man looked calm, he hadn’t been frightened in the least by their sudden appearance. Harry found himself stopping in the door, realising that the lack of reaction on his dad’s part was so strange that he found himself uncertain that he was actually looking at his dad.

“I saw you coming.” Remus explained to his confused son as he motioned towards his desk upon which a large something made out of paper was spread out. “Close the door, please. I will explain everything after I’ve reminded you that the two of you are not supposed to go anywhere without supervision.”

Harry realised his mistake, sheepishly looking down at his shoes as Malfoy closed the door. “You are right… that was really careless of us…” He admitted. “I’m really sorry, dad.”

The man smiled back, looking both sad and relieved. “This once, there was no actual danger, but don’t be so careless again.” Remus waved for them to come closer, showing towards the item of paper in front of him.

The two Slytherin students approached his desk, looking down upon the item before them. The piece of paper was so large that it couldn’t be folded out properly on Remus' desk, as said desk wasn’t even remotely close to large enough. It appeared to be a map of Hogwarts, or rather, detailed blueprints of the castle. It could have been any castle, but Harry recognised too many things on the map to not conclude that it was showing the building they were currently in.

However, far more interesting than the map itself was the tiny dots on it, they were moving, circling, remaining still. Many of the dots were labelled with small tags which stated a name. Remus pointed towards a room, in which three dots were standing still. Harry and Malfoy both leaned in to read the tags underneath the dots.

“Remus Lupin, Harry Lupin, Draco Malfoy.” Harry read, feeling how a smile formed on his lips as he read his name as Lupin, not Potter. “It’s us.” He looked up, smiling at his dad. The smile slowly faded into a frown as he turned back towards the map. “But why… What is this?”

Remus glanced at Malfoy, who was far too busy scanning the map to notice the man’s gaze. He straightened up, brushing some hair from his face and then began to speak. “It is a blueprint map of Hogwarts, it only shows the building and some other buildings on the grounds, although it doesn’t show the grounds themselves. It shows everyone in the building as these little dots, labelled with the person’s name, showing where they are going and roughly what they are doing.” The man appeared uncomfortable as he talked about the magical properties of the item, but he tried to not make it too visible. “If you observe this dot here, which is me.” He pointed before taking a step back and walked around in the office. On the map, the little dot labelled with his name followed his movements in walking around in a circle.

“It shows anyone, I mean, everyone… always?” Malfoy stared at the map, his expression had gone from impressed to somewhat frightened. He appeared highly uncomfortable with the idea of always being seen.

Remus returned to his desk, looking down at the map with an equally uncomfortable look on his face. “Yes. I’m glad that you understand the severity of this item’s properties. This is a highly intrusive, highly illegal, enchanted map, which should by no means exist in the first place. The people who enchanted this should not have done it in the first place. It is such a heavy breach of privacy that this item could bring the creators to Azkaban. That is how serious their crime is.” The conviction in his voice was almost a little frightening. He was serious enough to mention Azkaban itself when speaking about the repercussions for those who enchanted the map, which was highly unlike him as he didn’t tend to speak of punishments.

“That is… bad. How did you get it, dad?” Harry glanced from the map to his dad.

“It is… not mine, per say. I believe it belongs to these gentlemen here.” He turned the corner of the map and pointed at what seemed to be the front of it.

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, purveyors of aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present the Marauders' Map.” Malfoy read out loud.

Realisation hit Harry, who looked towards his dad. Although he hadn’t heard the name in a long time, Remus had once admitted to the silly nicknames which he and his friends had for one another back when he was young. He had never thought about the meaning of the other names but he knew that Moony used to be his dad’s nickname. Remus had seemed embarrassed by the name when he told him, preferring that Harry didn’t use it and didn't tell anyone about it.

With the understanding that the names listed were the nicknames of his dad’s old friends, Harry concluded that he could figure out what nickname belonged to who based on knowing the shape which the animagi friends took. Prongs for antlers, which meant that it must belong to the stag, thus that name belonged to James Potter. Wormtail had to be the rat’s nickname, due to the common perception that rats’ tails resembled worms in some manner, which meant that the person who it belonged to was Peter Pettigrew. That only left Padfoot as Sirius Black.

Harry looked up at his dad, who avoided his eyes with an ashamed expression on his face. It was clear that the young Remus seemingly hadn’t found the map to be as illegal of an item as the adult found it to be. His dad had made no small effort in explaining to them that the map was illegal and that he didn’t approve of it.

“I found the map together with Fred and George Weasley as they were sneaking through one of the hidden paths marked on this map. I have been using my free time to search for and confirm the hidden paths on my own. I was about to hand the map over to the Headmaster today when you asked me to join the game, Harry.” The man sighed, looking down at the map with another displeased look on his face.

The man hesitated, his eyes scanning the map as desperation slipped into his gaze, causing him to appear rather miserable. “I thought I saw…” He whispered as he placed his hand on the map, as if it was a living thing which could grant him answers. “When the Dementors attacked, I ran to assist the students but in the corner of my eye I saw… I thought I saw a large, black dog. Yet when I looked again, it was gone. I…” He tried to speak but his voice failed him, instead his words twisted into a weak whimper. He swallowed and tried again. “I thought I saw Sirius Black.”

“As did Weasley, that’s why we came here.” Harry spoke up, confirming his dad’s suspicions. Remus’s head snapped towards him, his eyes urging the boy to tell him more. “He saw the dog, he thinks it’s some manner of omen called a Grim, but it is far more likely to be Black. Weasley claims that he saw a large, black dog outside his window before school started. It had apparently left prints, eaten vegetables from their garden and scratched on the door, so at least that was a real animal and not a delusion. I think any Weasley could confirm his story about the prints in their backyard. He said he saw the same dog during the game.”

Remus nodded, turning his attention back to the map. “Then he must have been there. I don’t know about him finding his way to the Burrow. He should know the way there based on Arthur and Molly being members of the Order of the Phoenix, but if he was actually trying to get inside their house, he would more likely than not have entered in his human shape.”

“That is true.” Malfoy agreed, he was still studying the map closely, searching for something as his eyes switched from focus to focus. “Trying to enter their home by scratching on the door makes little sense to someone who could transform into a person and open it. Still… if Black entered Hogwarts in the shape of a canine, would he still be shown as a dot with his name on this map?”

“The map seems to show the name the person identifies with.” The werewolf pointed towards Harry’s name. “If Black truly identifies with the animal, which would make him practically insane, then he wouldn’t be shown under the name Sirius Black. I can only speculate what the tag under would say, but it could be anything from a nickname to a name he recognises as belonging to him.”

“At the very least the map seems to respect one’s identity.” Harry smiled at it, secretly more than impressed with the magic which must have been used to create it.

“Yes. So it seems.” The man chuckled before his expression returned to a serious one. “I rushed here after leaving you with the Headmaster to check on the secret paths which can be used to access the castle from outside. His name didn’t appear, thus I think it is safe to assume that he was properly chased off by the Dementors. I have to get this map to Professor Dumbledore, as I looked to see if he was in the Slytherin common room, I found that he was not and neither were the two of you. You caused me quite the fright as I searched for you but I was lucky enough to find you in the hospital wing. I assume now that you went to see Mr. Weasley?” Both Slytherin students nodded to confirm his suspicion.

“This map could be used to search for Black though, could it not?” Malfoy was still studying it. Although he was displeased and uncomfortable with the item, at the very least he could see how it might aid in finding the escaped criminal.

“Ideally yes, but it is more complicated than that.” Remus lifted the map up in an attempt to show just how big it actually was. It seemed to be far larger than Harry had assumed, despite him already thinking of it as large. “The school has seven floors, each floor hosts a lot of classrooms as well as other rooms to hide in. On your average, there are currently between 600 or 700 students at Hogwarts, added to that, there are teachers, House-Elves, other staff members and ghosts. Finding a single name within this cluster of names is almost impossible, especially if there was only one person looking. We could only safely locate Si-, um, Black if he had already broken into Hogwarts and was running about in the corridors on his own, and only then would it make be possible to locate him if the students were safely locked away in the Great Hall or the common rooms, so as to not accidentally shield his name. Thus, using the map as a precaution against Black is essentially useless.”

Remus pointed at one of the corridors on the map, one which Harry wouldn’t recall ever seeing in the castle itself. “Instead of using the map as a precaution, we will use it to determine the paths which Black could use to break inside the castle and try to block them, or at the very least keep them under constant watch. If he somehow managed to find his way inside Hogwarts, the map might be useful then but for now, using it really is a severe breach of privacy and shouldn’t be encouraged. I really was that lucky to spot you two by accident in a part of the school which is relatively empty most of the time. I wasn’t expecting to find you by just searching aimlessly.”

“The school really is large, huh?” Harry felt his head spin slightly as he tried to understand the magnitude of the building and how many people were inside of it.

“It must have been some rather powerful magic used to create this magical item…” Malfoy agreed, shaking his head at the thought. “I am sure my father would enjoy studying it, whatever they cast to create it must have burnt them out utterly… No wonder they were four people, a single person could never have managed to use that much magic on their own, even through ritual magic.”

Remus nodded, once more appearing ashamed and guilty. “Indeed. Either way, I must get this map to the Headmaster. I will walk you back to your common room before that.” He began folding the map together, looking somewhat absent as he did. “Would you kindly not mention this magical item to anyone? I’m worried that it would spread across Hogwarts and cause both outrage and discomfort. I will strongly encourage Professor Dumbledore that it is destroyed.” He placed the map within his clothes, then turned towards the two students to which he had referred to as his wards. “Shall we return the two of you then?” He smiled gently at them, making at least his son feel somewhat better after a long day of discomfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **Marauders' Map**  
>  We have made many changes to this item in particular.
> 
> Creation:  
> The map was not by any means simple to create. As previously discussed within this series, magic isn't fully explored or understood, and it's more often than not happening that people try to attempt to combine things which they do not fully understand. Sirius got his hands on information in his family archives and they worked with the ritual together with common tracking spells to create the map. There was much trial and error, and it took very long to finalise. 
> 
> To finalise the map, not only had the full ritual to be completed, but a part of the ritual and spell had to be cast in every single room which they wanted to include, with rather distinct attempts to cover the entire area, not entirely dissimilar to scanning. This was the hardest part which often ended up wrong, and was only completed with the help of the Invisibility cloak, and Peter scouting as a rat. There are some spaces which they never managed to access in time to complete the ritual, and thus the spaces cannot be read, among them Dumbledore's Office.
> 
> Legality:  
> Private espionage is highly illegal, and authorial espionage is for most part illegal enough to awake conflict and distrust, but can be excused under extreme circumstances. However, as children grow up, it's not entirely uncommon that they tend to fail to see the crimes in acts such as espionage, slander and trespassing. As teenagers, the Marauders truly did not understand the gravity of the crime which they had committed in making the map. 
> 
> Remus is exaggerating ever so slightly in the idea that they would be sent to Azkaban for it; as children, they would likely have been expelled if anyone realised the real purpose of the map, and the map would have been destroyed. Remus is discussing what would happen if an adult committed this crime of creating such a powerful tool of espionage.
> 
> Size:  
> The map is a full blueprint of all seven Hogwarts floors, some additional spaces and other buildings such as Hagrid's Hut and the Shrieking Shack, as well as the tunnel under the Whomping Willow. This means that fully unfolded, it's far larger than the Map in the canon, and by no means easy to maneuver. It is wise to keep in mind that the map isn't perfect and ideal, they were just children following instructions of and experimenting with magic they did not fully understand the complexity of.
> 
> Hiding the information:  
> There are more commonly known charms and spells using passwords to hide and reveal written information, and they are not too difficult for skilled mages their age to cast. There would be ways to forcefully break such a charm and reveal the workings of the map anyway. The Marauders were lucky that nobody thought to try, but then again, it is a very strange an unusual item in the first place, especially as it mostly appears as a normal blueprint of the building, which they would have use for as is. Altogether the map is at high risk of being revealed in the wrong hands.
> 
> Identification of people:  
> The idea that raw magic could somehow track and identify legal made up concepts such as legal names would be a little ridiculous. This is where tracking magic comes in. The map as of currently reads surface identities, which is why humans and everything with a sense of named self shows on the map with a name.
> 
> For example, Remus legal name is Remus John Lupin, but his concept of surface identity extends to knowing himself as Remus Lupin, thus the map records him as Remus Lupin. Harry does not identify with Harry Potter, and thus he is Harry Lupin. Similarly, if a person does not identify with their legal or given name, the name which they are called and have chosen to identify with shows on the map. In very rare cases a nickname might show instead of a commonly used legal name of a person, but most people either have a preferred name or legal name which they know themselves to be. 
> 
> People seldom identify as Junior or Senior, and it seldom shows on the map as well, rather than just the name. 
> 
> It is unknown if a person could trick themselves enough that they are someone else to subsequently trick the map, but it is also not currently relevant for the plot. 
> 
> Animals and creatures depend on their level of awareness. If Secrets the basilisk came out of the tunnels she would likely read as Secrets, for it is what she has been continuously called since her discovery. Buckbeak would likely not have his name, as the name was given rather recently by Hagrid. 
> 
> In cases such as Trevor the toad, the toad can't be taught to recognise its name and would just show up as a dot on the map, as he is self aware enough to separate his existence from the environment around him, as are most animals. This of course makes the map even more cluttered.


	12. Chapter 11 - In which Cedric Diggory casts the Patronus Charm and impresses a girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next to Harry, Malfoy raised his hand and was granted the right to voice his question. “What do you think of when you cast the Patronus, Professor? It might help us figure out a good method of our own if we know of an accomplished caster’s preferred approach.” 
> 
> The man hesitated before slowly nodding. “I…” He stopped to consider his answer once more. “I think of my son. Of the fact that he needs me, of what I can do for him, and how much my existence is worth in that I am capable of being there for a child who needs me. Five points to Slytherin.”

The room which had been used for Lockhart’s duelling classes last year had now been repurposed for the sake of allowing Remus to hold his Dementor classes. The stage had been removed, as had the colorful banners and anything else which might be seen as distracting or in the way. Other than the desks which had all been moved to the side, there was a large table upon which glasses of water had been placed, alongside jugs by which to refill one’s glass. 

Remus Lupin was standing in front of the students who had decided to take his class. While there weren’t overwhelmingly many, there were quite a number of people who had decided to take the class. Harry had of course signed up for the class, as had Malfoy, Hermione and Neville. Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson hadn’t been interested to attend, but Blaise and Nott had joined the class to see what it was about. It seemed to Harry that Nott might have talked Blaise into coming with him, as the handsome boy appeared to be less invested in the class than the eccentric boy. 

Harry recognised a few other faces in the crowd, but nobody he truly felt like speaking to. There was captain Flint, his boyfriend Wood, Prefect Weasley and Seeker Weasley. He looked around and quickly spotted Ron Weasley and a few of his friends, the boy was once again standing a little away from the group, who were currently pulling the hoods on their cloaks up over their head and pretended to make Dementor noises. 

“I’d like to have everyone’s attention, please.” Remus spoke up, causing everyone in the room to turn towards him. “Before I begin this lesson, I’m going to remove twenty points from Gryffindor. This might not be my classroom but I will not accept any discrimination in here. Any further stressing your fellow students out will have you removed from his lesson.” He didn’t need to look at the Gryffindor students to have them cower and wince over the loss of points. Prefect and Seeker Weasley both appeared stoic and accepting over the loss, although it was clearly hard for them to keep their expressions neutral. Harry smiled, not because he was happy that Gryffindor had lost points but because his dad had been able to stop the bullying. It might only be temporary, but at least he had saved Weasley for the moment. 

“Now then, allow me to begin my lesson...” He stopped as a student raised her hand “Yes, Miss Chang?”  
  
A Ravenclaw student who Harry had never before seen had raised her hand and spoke a question, “will these lessons work under the same form of point system as your other classes?”  
  
Remus gave the girl a smile and nodded. “One point to Ravenclaw, they will indeed." He took a deep breath and prepared himself to speak again.  
  
“Now then. As you are aware of, Hogwarts is currently guarded by Dementors, which were sent here by the Ministry of Magic, bringing them here from Azkaban.” His voice was loud, clear and heard by all students as he spoke. “A Dementor is in some parts sentient, yet we know very little of these creatures. They guard Azkaban Prison because they could not be chased from that island. Many suggestions of reforms have been filed for change, but every time, the proposals have been rejected and the Dementors remain. Many of you believe that the Dementors guarding Azkaban is a good thing, and I shall not put words in your mouths, but I want you all to consider if you opinion would be the same, should you be sent to Azkaban without any chance of ever escaping the Dementors’ presence.” 

Remus remained silent for a while, allowing his words to sink in. Some students whispered in response. He received no clear signs of questions, thus he continued. “A patronus is the only known spell which can ward off a Dementor. A patronus is cast by the usage of the Patronus Charm. It is a powerful, complex spell, not because the spell itself is difficult, but because the magic you use for it is very different from the magic you use every day.” He stopped to hold out one of his hands, silently casting a spell with a hand movement, without his wand. In his right hand appeared a small flame. “Magic cannot quite be explained by science as of currently, but it is generally classified in two types: magic which draws from the things around you, and magic which draws from within you. You do not feel lightheaded from casting the Levitation Charm because it is not the magic from your body which is used to cast the spell, however, a complex spell like the Human Transfiguration one might cause you to faint. In general, Charms are independent from your own magic, while many spells taught in Transfiguration require at least a little bit of your own magical energy. 

“The Patronus Charm is magical energy gathered into a projection of serenity, calm, and willpower. It is your very own magic given form to protect you from those which seek to harm you. It is the only known spell which can chase Dementors off, as they do not respond to the most common protection spells. You can ward a Dementor off by the use of a Shielding Charm, but it will only grant you temporary time before the creature returns. Dementors have been recorded to only leave a target alone if it is chased away by the raw magical energy projected by an individual. It has not been proven why Dementors fear it, but some researchers claim that Dementors are weak, cowardly creatures. They will not attack anything which has proven itself superior in terms of magic and which can overcome their one method of making their prey weak. In short, if you prove yourself superior, a Dementor would rather flee than seek to battle you.”

He extinguished his flame by closing his hand, then pulled out his wand and spoke in a clear voice. “Expecto Patronum.” From his wand leaped a canine shape. Harry felt his heart beat faster in his chest as he realised the small possibility that the canine shape was that of a werewolf. However, any way he looked at the creature as it ran through the air around the room, drawing breaths of awe from the onlookers, the canine appeared to be a regular wolf.

The silvery beast came to stand next to Remus, as if it was a faithful dog returning to its Master. “A fully fledged patronus takes the corporeal form of an animal, it is unknown why but theorised to relate to a manifestation of your nature as a person. It can be used to send messages through some distance, but it is beyond all else a defense against Dementors and other creatures which seek to harm you. You do not need to be able to call for a fully fledged patronus to be able to escape from a Dementor, something less can be used to create an opening which will allow you to run. As I have said many times in my classes, running is always an option when dealing with dangerous Dark Creatures or magic.” He smiled as the wolf by his side turned to a silvery smoke and disappeared. 

“However, casting a patronus which does not take the corporeal form of an animal uses up more of your magical energy. Instead of producing something made out of your own magic, you are constantly draining your energy by casting it.” He raised his wand again and pronounced the spell, this time producing a semi shield out of the same silvery substance. It was continuously flowing from his wand, hovering yet spinning in the air before him. “This is the lesser version of a patronus, as you can see, I have to continuously produce magic from my wand to be able to keep the shield up. If this is what you can manage to produce, it is still useful against a single Dementor, thus still capable of saving your life. Yet it will drain you, and you should focus on removing yourself from the situation instead of continuously producing this type of defense.” 

“Professor?” Nott raised his hand, waving it back and forth to assure that he was seen. He spoke as the man nodded towards him. “Does the shape of our patronuses matter in some way? I mean, is there some symbolism or representation for what animal shape they take? How does that define our nature as people?” 

Harry was nervous that the question would make his dad uncomfortable as he was rather sure that Remus was ashamed over his patronus. His son couldn’t be certain but he found it hard to think that his dad would be comfortable with something which reminded him very strongly of his condition. 

His dad didn’t show any sign of fear or stress over the question, he calmly answered in the same tone of voice he always used to respond to any inquiries during his lessons. “Throughout history, humankind has often used symbols to describe and attribute meaning to occurrences, events and the like. A very common type of symbolism is to attribute animal qualities to humans, to, if you will, identify certain human traits with those of an animal to find a spiritual or meaningful connection. This has been observed in many cultures around the world, although I won’t be discussing the details too in-depth.” 

“In my case, the wolf can be analysed in many different ways. Loyalty, pack mentality, family, love, there are many aspects which could be applied to me, yet there is little point to me analysing why my patronus takes the shape it does. If it holds a meaning to you, and can help you identify and further your own self, I encourage you to think about what shape your patronus might take. Or if you manage to produce it, think about why it took that shape. It is by no means necessary, and the shape might not hold any meaning whatsoever, but if it is valuable to you personally, feel free to interpret your patronus in any way you wish. It has been recorded that paronuses can and do change, the shape is not set in stone. Just as people change throughout life, their method for casting a patronus might change.” 

Remus wasn’t exactly rejecting the idea of a patronus having meaning, but it was clear to his son that his dad would rather not think about the subject. It was likely that the wolf was an unpleasant reminder of his condition, one he’d rather not analyse at all. Harry wondered what shape his patronus might take, he wondered what animal would describe him the best. Judging by the expressions around him, other people were considering the same thing which he was. 

“Five points to Slytherin.” Remus gave Nott a smile before continuing to speak. “A patronus is a state of mind. To manage to cast it, you need to be calm and serene. You need to believe in your own ability, and you need to have the willpower to overcome the poison which the Dementors use on their prey. It might seem like some manner of evil, dark magic, and it is, but in reality, it is a tool for the dark creatures to hunt and feed. If you prove to the creature that you are powerful enough to not allow it to feed on you, it will escape rather than fight you.” 

“Professor?” An older student who Harry couldn’t quite place raised his hand. He was a handsome teenager with somewhat unruly hair, intelligent eyes and red lips. The son of a werewolf thought he might be the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain but he wasn’t sure. “If I may use Muggle terminology, is it true that Dementors are like the mental disease titled Major Depressive Disorder, or Depression for short?”

“Five points to Hufflepuff, Mr. Diggory. I am not fully educated in the subject of mental disorders but I shall do my best to explain from what I do know. People who live with the disorder, not only Muggles, but mages as well, tend to show similar symptoms in extreme scenarios, but Depression can be very different for different people. Some become incapable of feeling, experiencing apathy, nihilism and a lack of energy to accomplish any task. Others become obsessed with working, endlessly throwing themselves into complex tasks or overwhelming loads of work. Some become engrossed in a single subject and anything other than that is not worth their time. Some cannot get up from the bed, others cannot sleep. Major Depressive Disorder is something flexible, ever changing and unique to every individual. It also isn’t always constant, or a constant change of mind, but can change in ways and then return to be the same. It can appear for a period of time, disappear and then appear again in someone's life. Some people believe that an individual suffering from Depression has to remain in the same state all the time, although this is highly inaccurate.”

“In comparison, a Dementor’s poison removes your will to live by stealing the immediate happiness around you. The absolute and complete despair, extreme lack of willpower and crushing defeat can and are in cases affecting people struggling with depression, but it truly does not represent the disorder as a whole, limiting the understanding of the condition. Dementors are more likely than not unnatural, and the manner in which they crush your spirit and resistance isn’t a natural state of mind. Major Depressive Disorder usually affects far, far more than just your surface level desire to live.”  
  
“I shall try to not go on any further on this tangent, but it’s important to note the potential dangers in comparing such a complex disorder affecting a vast amount of people in the world to the unnatural despair caused by a Dementor. The mentality might risk undermining the struggles and complexity, leading to misinformation and lack of treatment where people could have found help and improvement.” The Professor halted himself, smiling at the class. “We will take a ten minutes break now, as I have been speaking a lot. After these ten minutes, I will explain how to cast the spell itself. There is water behind me if you need it and bathrooms down the hall to the right.” 

The room filled with voices as the break began as people began discussing what they had just heard, talked to one another or thought out loud about whatever came to their minds. Remus walked over to the table to have a glass of water, then chose to remain in a corner a little away from the students, likely taking the time to allow himself from breathing space. 

Harry turned towards his friends, Malfoy and Hermione seemed deep in thought while Neville rubbed his earlobes, trying to make himself relax somewhat. “Am I bothering you if I speak?” Harry carefully addressed his friends. 

“Huh? Oh, it’s fine. I was just considering what shape my patronus might take.” Malfoy raised his head before waving his hand at Harry’s question. “You are not bothering.” 

“Great, any idea what it could be?” Harry asked, immediately feeling more relieved than before he spoke up. 

“I… I don’t know. I supposed I’d like something special. Maybe not a dragon, but a highly magical creature with grace and beauty.” He hummed, glancing up at the ceiling as he thought. 

“I think I’d like something more common, maybe even cute?” Hermione nervously played with her hair as she admitted to not wanting to be special. Nobody objected to her statement, Malfoy even nodded in support of her conclusion of what she wanted.

“I don’t even think I can cast the spell in the first place, I’m not sure what the point would be in thinking about what animal might represent me.” Neville sighed, looking rather dejected. 

“With that attitude, you sure won’t.” Harry patted his shoulder. “You have to believe in yourself more, you aren’t useless.” He stated for a fact, helping his friend feel less insecure. 

“Thanks. Any idea what yours would be?” Neville smiled at him, he appeared a little uncertain but nonetheless supported by Harry’s words. 

“I’m also not sure I would be able to cast the Patronus Charm but say that I did… I guess maybe a wolf like dad?” The son of a werewolf guessed. 

“Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Dean.” Remus' voice broke through the chatter of voices as the man walked through the crowd, stopping before the two boys. “I explicitly told you that I will accept no harassment during my classes. I’m sending you away from this class, if you want to come back in two weeks, you are welcome, but for today, you are excused. Twenty points from Gryffindor. Be careful on your way back to your common room.” 

Harry and his friends were standing too far away to judge what was happening, but Harry assumed that the two boys had been harrassing Ron Weasley some more. The two boys looked displeased as they walked to the door together, trying to leave as quick and discreetly as possible. Weasley glanced after them, looking like he might want to follow them but decided to stay with his family instead. He somewhat sheepishly walked over to his older brother, who welcomed him. It didn’t appear to Harry like Prefect Weasley had anything against the loss of points for his House this time around, but deemed the punishment natural for the sake of discouraging the type of behavior which the boys had been displaying. 

“Now that ten minutes has passed, allow me to continue my lesson. We shall move on to how to cast the patronus Charm. As I stated before, you need peace of mind to produce a patronus, but you also need willpower. To reach the calm, serene but most of all clear mindset which is needed to cast the spell, many instructors would encourage you to think of your happiest memory. To use the energy of that memory, the happiness of that memory, to remember why you want to live and not give in to the Dementors’ poison. By the use of a strong, happy memory, you can find the will to live, thus produce a patronus to protect your life with.” The man had returned to the front of the room, speaking to the crowd of people once more. 

“Note that you are not actually using your happy memories, but rather trying to obtain a certain focus to allow the raw magic within yourself to flow and be utilised. Happiness and feelings are fickle, and neither memories nor relations tend to be completely serene and happy. Such as guilt, jealousy, anger, fear of losing your loved ones, or even something as simple as embarrassment will disturb the focus needed to cast this spell. If you believe that you are capable of using happy associations to reach this mindset, keep in mind that you need to focus on that feeling. Also, there is no measurement of happiness, and no one way to feel happy, thus what makes you personally reach a serene and focused state of mind of this sort is entirely individual.” Remus finished.

Next to Harry, Malfoy raised his hand and was granted the right to voice his question. “What do you think of when you cast the patronus, Professor? It might help us figure out a good method of our own if we know of an accomplished caster’s preferred approach.” 

The man hesitated before slowly nodding. “I…” He stopped to consider his answer once more. “I think of my son. Of the fact that he needs me, of what I can do for him, and how much my existence is worth in that I am capable of being there for a child who needs me. Five points to Slytherin.” 

Harry felt his cheeks heat as his father described the emotions which he used to reach the mindset needed to cast a patronus. It was somewhat embarrassing to have the man speak of him like that in front of the entire class, but it also made the boy feel proud and more than anything, it made him feel loved. Harry knew that Remus was the biggest reason as to why he was the way he was, and he was the reason why the boy had grown up with such a happy childhood. He smiled at his dad, who gave him a smile and a nod back. 

“The spell is Expecto Patronum, the movement of your wand doesn’t matter, as you are not drawing magic from outside but inside yourselves. The wand is a tool to tame magic around you, the movement of your wand only calls magic to you. In the case of this spell, as the magic comes from within you, it is not necessary to consider your hand movements. You can pick whatever feels natural, or do nothing at all, whatever you need to cast the spell and whatever works for you is what is important when casting this charm.” Remus stepped back. 

“Take a moment to consider what you can use within yourself to harness your own magical energy. I’m afraid that there isn’t a lot I can do to help you from here on out, but keep in mind that this is a highly advanced spell, do not feel discouraged if you have trouble casting it. I will be walking around and do my best to not disturb but be available for questions, make sure you face the walls when casting the spell so as to not hurt anyone with your wands.” 

With that, there was nothing left to do but practice. The students spread out in the room, yet silence filled the room as the people gathered began to think about what might help them reach the vague yet somewhat vivid mindset which the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had tried to describe. 

Harry turned towards the wall, closed his eyes and began to think. He thought of serenity, of calm and of being relaxed. His first thought was to consider all the evenings where he and his dad had spent together in front of the fireplace, each reading a book of their own while just allowing the time to pass as if it wasn’t even there. Then, he thought of laughing with his friends, of studying with Hermione, Neville and Malfoy. He thought of relaxing in the Slytherin common room with his friends, followed by the feeling of calm and safety while sleeping next to Malfoy when he was scared or stressed, or simply needed comfort. 

Harry decided to try all different ones in turn to see which worked the best but before that, he took a few moments to try and feel the magic within him. He focused on the beating of his heart, the way his lungs filled with air as he breathed, and the feeling of his own fingertips, soft yet capable of wielding something as undefinable as magic. He wondered where the magic within him was located, was it in his head, in his heart, in his stomach, everywhere at once? He didn’t know and perhaps it didn’t matter. Harry realised that he might be overthinking it and should perhaps start to try and cast the spell. Around him, people had already begun casting the spell, their voices slowly filling the room with noise. 

The son of a werewolf opened his eyes, looking down at his wand. Next to him, Hermione pronounced the spell, staring at her wand as absolutely nothing happened. Judging by the surprise on her face, Harry wondered if this was the first time she had not succeeded right away in casting a spell. 

He realised that he was getting distracted, thus returned to his own thoughts. He began using the memory of him, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy studying together, and tried to recall the happiness in spending time with his friends. Nothing happened when he pronounced the spell, thus, he switched to a different feeling, seeking the serenity and will to live which his dad had spoken off. Harry worked his way through some memories to search for one to act as a focus of serenity and calm, but he found it hard to find one that was pure. 

A loud buzz passed through the group. Harry turned back towards the room and found a patronus sailing over the crowd. It was a beautiful silver toned bald eagle with a huge wingspan, spreading a silvery veil after itself. It let out a cry, announcing to all that it existed before erupting into a ball of bright, silver light. As it disappeared, the caster sank down to his knees, breathing heavily. The one to have succeeded in casting the spell was none other than the Hufflepuff Quidditch captain, Diggory. 

He was quickly surrounded by people who wanted to congratulate him, forcing the Professor to scatter them to allow the teenager some space. Remus helped move Diggory to the side, where Flint and Wood came up to keep an eye on him. The boy was clearly exhausted from having cast the spell, his hands and legs were shaking severely. His fellow Quidditch captains brought him some water and kept other students away from swarming him as he evidently needed to breathe. 

In the crowd, the Ravenclaw girl who had asked the question earlier curled together slightly, looking at the teenager with almost hungry eyes. She seemed more than a little impressed, but the crowd was keeping her from actually talking to the boy right at that moment. 

Harry turned back towards the wall, trying to focus once more on casting his own patronus. He considered trying to mimic his dad, thinking about the calm he felt when he needed to act for someone else. The mindset felt right for him, there was a serenity to helping others and to do what they couldn’t do at that moment. It made him feel calm, confident, and secure. Just like his dad, the idea of doing something for another person, of finding meaning in being there for someone who mattered was something which brought the son of a werewolf comfort. Harry took a deep breath, smiling to himself. 

“Expecto Patronum.” He spoke the word calm and clearly, lifting his wand up. Silvery threads spun from his wand, wrapping together into a thin net of smoke in front of him, acting like a shield. He wasn’t the first in the room to get this far in casting the spell, but he was nonetheless excited to have been able to do it. As the threads continued to be spun from his wand, becoming smoke in the air, Harry began to feel light headed. He lowered his wand, allowing the spell to end before taking a deep breath to steady himself. 

“Impressive, Lupin.” Malfoy noticed that Harry was swaying slightly and came over to him. He looked a little annoyed, but the son of a werewolf simply attributed that to the fact that Malfoy hadn’t managed to cast the spell at all so far. “If you don’t mind me asking, what were you thinking of to produce the charm?” 

Harry shrugged. “I’m not sure if I was really thinking at all, or just feeling. I felt determined, certain and… maybe a little reckless?” The boy’s explanation was not pleasing the blonde mage, who shook his head at his words. 

“That isn’t exactly helpful to me.” Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest, he appeared to be thinking hard. 

“I guess the best explanation is that I was feeling mostly the same things as my dad.” Harry tried again. “What he described in regards to how he casts it is what I feel but in regards to wanting to be there for the people around me who need me.” 

“So you cast it by thinking about others relying on you?” Neville carefully entered the conversation, stepping closer to Harry so as to not interrupt Hermione who was deep in thought. “Does that make you feel calm?” He glanced at his hands and then up at Harry once more as a complex expression of grief and loneliness formed on his face. “Does it make you feel serene to be needed? I feel… like being needed is heavy, it makes me feel… stressed, I think. Do I have to feel the same to be able to cast it?” Neville was stressing himself up the more he spoke, making himself more anxious with every word. 

Harry was just about to try and help him calm down when their teacher spoke up behind them. “That’s quite alright, Mr. Longbottom, you do not have to cast this spell in a manner similar to anyone else. You do not have to think or feel like my son does.”  
  
Remus smiled softly at both of the boys, waiting for his words to calm the anxious Gryffindor student. Harry smiled back, not answering as to allow Neville to breathe in peace. In his hand, the Professor held a glass of water, which he gave to the Gryffindor boy after a few moments of just giving him time to collect himself. He didn’t in any way touch the boy, but took the glass back once Neville had finished. Harry reached out and gave Neville a reassuring pat on the shoulder, smiling at him. He received a weak smile in return. It seemed Neville too had realised the fact that he needed to calm down before he could continue altogether, and that calming the overwhelming emotions within him came before finding a solution to the problem he was currently facing.  
  
Remus thought for a bit, then spoke up. “It is both taxing and difficult to cast a patronus. I am asking you to not only to perform with near perfect control of your own minds and emotions, but also to draw from your own force of magic simultaneously. However, if you let yourself worry about not being able to cast it, it will prevent you from casting it. Find a calm space in your head where you feel in control and focused, just like you calmed yourself down now. Harry might find his serenity from the idea of casting it for others, yet it is equally valid to cast the patronus for nobody but yourself.”  
  
Next to Harry, Remus and Neville, stood Malfoy who had been listening to the Professor’s words. Harry turned towards his friend as a look of realisation blossomed on the boy’s face. Malfoy turned away from them, closed his eyes and tried to focus, attempting to cast the spell once more.  
  
“Harry, you should probably have some water too before you try again. Keep up the good work.” Remus patted his son on the shoulder and disappeared off to help other students.

  
  
Nobody but Cedric Diggory managed to cast a corporeal patronus for the entirety of the lesson. A few of the older students managed to get in touch with their own flow of magic to produce the smoke-like shield, but few of the younger ones managed to accomplish more than make their wands produce small silver puffs of smoke. Harry found it hard to produce the shield again, only managing once more, yet that one disappeared almost right away, leaving him completely drained. Malfoy managed to produce some silvery puffs of smoke at least once or twice, which seemed to make the boy all the more determined to try. Hermione seemed increasingly distressed over not managing to cast it, leading to her friends having to remind her that it was alright to not manage on the first try with this very difficult type of magic.  
  
As the lesson ended the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor took a moment to remind them all of just how difficult the spell was, and how they should not feel dejected or dissatisfied with not managing to cast the spell during the first lesson. Remus encouraged the students to try and cast the spell whenever they felt like they had time and a good space for it. He made a point to mention that it might be easier in an environment which the individual found calming to them personally. There would be far more lessons, and all the students still had a chance to manage. There would be another lesson in two weeks, but until then they were all dismissed. 

Remus followed his son and Malfoy back to their common room, where the werewolf received a hug from his son before both boys more or less wobbled to their beds. They fell asleep early that evening, utterly drained from trying to cast such a complex spell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **The Patronus Charm**  
>  There is no measurement of happiness, and no one isolated way in which a happy memory has its value. We do not encourage the message that certain types of happiness are more valuable or valid than others. 
> 
> The story itself explains most of the changes we have made to this spell.  
> In short, it is about using your personal flow of magic, and finding a mindset of the right focus and security to cast it. 
> 
> Patronuses change more often in our lore, as people change in different periods of their lives. However, it is equally common for a patronus to remain in shape for a longer period in a person's life due to having cast it and come to recognise it as their own, thus subconsciously associating themselves with the shape. 
> 
> Further, there is no absolute way to interpret animal traits onto people, and thus the patronus has a lot to do with one's own perception of said animal and themselves, consciously as well as subconsciously. A person cannot cast a patronus of an animal which they do not know of.
> 
> All more prominent characters in this work have assigned patronuses, although not all of them will be revealed through the story. If you are curious about a patronus at the end of this book series, we could tell you. 
> 
> **Important to note: The patronuses will deviate from the Harry Potter canon as we base them purely on the character and circumstances, as well as changed lore, for this work. Some may remain the same, others won't.**
> 
> To achieve a powerful determined mindset of absolute serene focus is easier with happiness, and harder the more turmoil there is within a person's mind. Happiness is however not necessary to cast the spell, as there are other ways to be determined and strong enough to manage through a challenge in life. 
> 
> A good practical example regards Severus Snape.  
> In this canon, with this conception of the Patronus Charm, there is no way in which he could cast the spell thinking of Lily. There is no way in which he can reach out to memories of her, or his friendship with her, without experiencing guilt, shame and regret, thus disturbing the spell. 
> 
> When he casts the patronus in this current stage of his life and the story, he casts it out of the serenity in acceptance of things as they are, and the tasks which he has to perform. 
> 
> A fun fact is that to determine Severus' patronus, we completed the actual Patronus Quiz, answering in the manners which the man we have written would answer, and found his patronus out through said method. This has been applied to a few more of the characters as well. 
> 
> **Dementors**  
>  We cannot reveal too many of the changes and lore we have prepared as of yet in this book. 
> 
> However, the reason Remus considers them unnatural is because of their lack of recording in history, and rather sudden appearance in a single focused point in the world. This makes it likely to theorise that they might be created creatures in some manner, and there are plenty of manners which it could have happened in. Thus, as they are seemingly not part of the world's natural evolution, something magical seems more likely to have had a direct effect on something in a specific place.


	13. Chapter 12 - In which Harry Lupin encounters Sirius Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron Weasley took his place before the boggart. Harry could see the smile on his dad’s face turn stiffer. The boggart became very still, it was as if it had seen Weasley, thus locating its prey. Harry’s chest filled with an uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warnings:**  
>  This chapter will have some uncomfortable imagery based on the person in question fearing to get hurt, or fearing their loved ones getting hurt. 
> 
> Note: There are no spiders involved in this boggart class.

“That will be all for today, students. Good work.” Remus smiled at his group of third year students, nodding approvingly at them. “Before you leave, allow me to remind you once more that our last lesson before the Holidays will be dealing with boggarts. A boggart will take the shape of your biggest fear. I want you all to be prepared and consenting to practicing the spell in front of the class, as this will be appearing on your final exam. If you do not want to perform in front of your classmates, you won’t have to. Simply speak with me or a teacher who you trust and a private practice session will be held for you with your preferred teacher.” He glanced at his notes before looking up once more. “Do think about what shape your boggart might take for the sake of preparation, but do not get lost in your fears. I want you to prepare something to counter that fear with, something which makes you safe or happy, preferably happy. Class dismissed, I will see you in a week.” 

The students packed their things together and left, Harry waved towards his dad who smiled and waved back. As the son of a werewolf stepped outside of the classroom, he, Hermione, Malfoy and Neville heard the loud voices from the Gryffindor students coming from further down the hall. 

“Weasley, is your biggest fear going to be the Dementors or the Grim?” One of them was speaking loud enough that the quartet could hear him despite being somewhat further away. They saw the boy push Weasley with his elbow, hard enough to make him stumble. It seemed that Weasley mumbled something in response but they couldn’t hear it from where they were standing. 

“Ah!” Harry suddenly yelled. “Professor Lupin! Are you also going to the Great Hall?” Malfoy looked at him like he had gone insane, while Neville and Hermione stared with worried looks on their faces. 

The Gryffindor boys flinched and looked around, quickly scurrying off before leaving Weasley alone. The boy looked back towards Harry, the two of them locking eyes before Weasley slowly nodded as thanks and disappeared off in a different direction than his fellow Gryffindors. 

Harry sighed, turning back to his friends. “I’m glad that worked.”

“They should just leave him alone… I don’t understand how it could possibly be funny to keep on hurting him like this.” Neville sighed, pulling a hand through his hair. “Weasley is having nightmares, he keeps on talking about the Grim in his sleep. I’m not sure if it’s getting worse but it sure isn’t getting better.”

“I wonder where the legends of the Grim come from. I feel like I’ve read something about it and protecting churchyards. I wonder if it’s really evil.” Hermione mused, thinking out loud. “I should go research it, that way, he might calm down a little, have less nightmares, and not be so irritated towards my cat.”

“That might actually work.” Neville looked at her with admiration in her eyes. 

“Or it might change nothing.” Malfoy sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll assist you in searching though. It will go faster that way.” 

The girl beamed at him, leaning her head to the side. “That would be most helpful.” 

“We’re heading to the library then Lupin.” Malfoy turned to address Harry, as the two of them were not going anywhere without a larger crowd to follow or join. On rare occasions, the quartet moved about alone but they tried to avoid a situation where they were. Neither Malfoy nor Harry strayed from the other’s side, and they didn’t allow themselves to move alone through the castle after Remus had scolded them for being careless. 

“Oh no, not the library.” Harry pretended to be shocked, placing a hand over his chest. “Whatever is there to do in a library, I shall be so bored.” 

“Calm down, Hamlet.” Malfoy chuckled, clearly amused by his friend’s pretend reaction. 

“Alas, Yorick, your words make sense, I shall calm my wrath, but only momentarily.” Harry wrapped his arms around Malfoy’s arm, grinning at him. 

“Harry…” Neville hesitated, looking at him with a frown. “Are you pretending that Malfoy is a skull which you are talking to for the sake of fooling your enemies that you have gone insane?” He seemed both confused and amused. 

“Maybe.” Harry grinned back at Neville, hugging the arm tighter. “Skulls don’t have arms though, so I am clearly failing in my play pretend.” 

Malfoy sighed, trying not to smile as he gave Harry a pat on the head. He turned towards Hermione and began discussing at what section they might find information about the Grim. The group began to talk, Harry quickly let go of his friend’s arm to allow him to move however he wanted. Instead, he spoke with Neville, who was excited to share some information he had recently learnt about a plant called Gillyweed. 

The feeling which lingered in Harry and Malfoy’s dormitory was a tense one, perpetuated by the fact that Hagrid’s sentence would soon be confirmed. That is to say, the agent from the Ministry of Magic had returned to the Ministry for review of the material which they had gathered. Soon, Hagrid would receive a notice if he was allowed to continue teaching at Hogwarts or not, although most evidence suggested that he would not be allowed to teach as things were. Not to mention that there would be a separate decision made by the Ministry to confirm what should be done about Buckbeak and his fellow Hippogriffs. Lucius Malfoy was pressing heavily to have the former executed and the other beasts removed from Hogwarts grounds. 

Crabbe and Goyle stayed further and further away from Malfoy the more his father tried to hurt Hagrid. They no longer spoke to him or Harry, and sat further away from them by the Slytherin table. Their groups weren’t directly fighting, but they couldn't really speak with one another. Harry and Goyle had spoken a little about mundane matters, but Crabbe refused to conversate with any of them. Malfoy tried to not be upset about their childishness, but it was clear to his best friend that it frustrated and hurt him. 

Two days later, they both learned from Blaise and Nott that Hagrid had been deemed an unsuitable teacher and would be suspended from teaching until he had received a new teaching license. Harry suspected that when they said ‘new,’ they meant get one in the first place. Buckbeak would not be harmed in any way but taken to a much more experienced trainer while the rest of the herd would be divided between licensed breeders and trainers. There would be no Hippogriffs to remain at Hogwarts, as they truly had no function at the castle or the grounds. 

Of course, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson blamed Malfoy for what had happened. 

Hagrid was devastated and said trio opted to stay with him for as much as they could during their free time, meaning that Malfoy didn’t have to be exposed to them a lot. However, Crabbe and Goyle still shared a dormitory with them, making for an almost suffocating air in their sleeping chambers. Blaise was considering trying to change dormitories for the sake of no longer having to stand their silent war. 

The Care for Magical Creatures lessons received a stand in teacher from France, a man who introduced himself as retired but a previous employee of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. He was a calm and older man, whose right arm was missing. He had a large scar over his throat, which was likely to blame for his somewhat strange voice. That and his heavy accent made him somewhat hard to understand at times, but he was a good and calm instructor who mostly showed them smaller creatures and how to care for them. The wizard understood well that there was some miscommunication between him and his English students, thus he didn’t mind repeating himself to try and make the students' education as good as he could make it. Harry enjoyed his education far more than he did anything which Hagrid had tried to teach them. That only made him more of an enemy to Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson. 

The time had come for the boggart lesson which Remus had prepared them for since weeks prior. Harry had been thinking a lot back and forth about what he might see when faced with a boggart, but he truly couldn’t find a concrete answer to his question by thinking about it. He did feel frightened by a great many things, but he wasn’t entirely certain what frightened him the most. He felt like he had some more complex fears but also some surprisingly simple ones. Continuously thinking about it made him feel sad and frightened, thus he opted to prepare a countermeasure to his fears, like instructed. At least he figured that Lord Voldemort didn't seem to be his current biggest fear, that was to say, he didn't feel very frightened thinking of the Dark Lord. It was probably due to that his currently most vivid memory regarding Lord Voldemort was his shouting matches down in the Chamber of Secrets with Tom Riddle. 

Remus greeted the class, standing in front of a big wardrobe. The desks had been moved to the sides, allowing for a lot of space in the center of the room. The wardrobe stood silent and still behind him, appearing more ominous in its silence than if it would have moved. 

The teacher began the lesson by informing his students of what was in the wardrobe behind him. “A boggart is a shapeshifting, non-being which takes on the form of its observer's worst fear. Because of their shape-shifting ability, no one knows what a boggart looks like when it is alone, as it changes instantly upon encountering someone.” He showed towards the item behind him, which remained still and silent, just like any other wardrobe. “Because of this, I have requested that you all think about your worst fears, as this one will transform accordingly. When facing a boggart, it is best to have someone else with you. This will confuse it, as facing more than one person at once makes it indecisive towards determining what form it should take. In some cases, this has led to it adapting a combination of the victims' fears.” 

“The boggart in there will transform into your biggest fear but it can be warded off with a comparatively simple spell. Repeat after me: Riddikulus.” 

The class spoke out loud, trying to be both loud and clear. 

“One more time, Riddikulus.” Remus guided them with a hand movement, calling them to repeat the word once more. They did, causing their teacher to nod approvingly. “Excellent. Now, the key to frightening a boggart in return is to laugh at it. What you must do is face your fears, cast the spell, and imagine the boggart taking the shape of something you find truly humorous. Your goal is to make this creature of fear into a figure of fun, so that the fear can be dispelled in amusement. The laughter will confuse and frighten it, weakening its powers. You have a great advantage in that there are so many right now, the more laughter, the better in dealing with a boggart.” Remus smiled at them, appearing slightly saddened. 

“Do not be fooled to think that a boggart is harmless. While it has not been recorded to ever physically hurt a person, coming face to face with your greatest fear is no small task. Throughout your life, your boggart will change many times, as will your greatest fear. Some people can handle their greatest fear easily while it can be completely impossible for others to do. The inability of handling your greatest fear does by no means make you weak, and any discrimination or attempts to wound another classmate for their deepest fears will not be tolerated. If I learn that anyone is abusing the knowledge of another person’s fear to ridicule or hurt them, I will remove a hundred points from that House and give the person detention for a week.” His words were harsh and sharp, he looked at them all with an almost fire in his eyes. No teacher had ever threatened to remove a hundred points from a House before. Judging by the expression on the man’s face, he wouldn’t hesitate to remove every point from a House if he learnt of someone abusing a boggart's shape to hurt one of their fellow students. 

His expression softened again. “Those of you who will practice against your boggart today, gather in the middle of the room, those of you who want to face it privately may sit down in the back. There is chocolate, sweets, water and fruit over by this table there. Everyone is free to take what they need but please don’t eat it for pleasure, save it for those who need it.” He showed towards a table to the left of him. “Take some time to collect yourself, perhaps talk to a friend, but mostly think of ways to counter your boggart and turn it into a figure of fun. I will prepare some music in the background to further assist in calming you down.” 

Next to Harry, Hermione carefully pulled on his and Neville’s sleeves to get their attention. Malfoy noticed and turned towards her as well. Her face was red, the type of stressed red which tended to accompany a frightened and ashamed individual. “I will go sit down. I’m sorry, I don’t think I can face my fears in front of people.” 

The three boys glanced at one another before smiling at her with understanding looks on their faces. She avoided their eyes, allowing her hair to hide her face from them. 

“May I give you a hug?” Harry carefully inquired to which she nodded and was given one which was not too tight or too close, but which Harry hoped was encouraging. “You will do absolutely fine on your own later. We’ll come join you after we’ve faced our boggarts.” Neville and Malfoy nodded in agreement. 

“You are making the right choice, forcing yourself isn’t good for you.” Neville encouraged her. 

“Yes, try to not feel discouraged by your choice. We’ll give you something amusing to laugh at.” Malfoy concluded. 

She smiled at them before hurrying off to the side. She wasn’t alone in leaving the floor, yet most chose to stay. Blaise walked up to Hermione and took a seat next to her, crossing his legs as he did. She immediately seemed happier to have a friend by her side and not remain alone. Harry had almost expected Weasley to step aside, but he was stubbornly remaining in the middle of the room, absently playing with his scarred fingertips. 

Classical music filled the room, accompanying the students’ discussions with exciting, joyful music which seemed both adventurous and happy. The music was loud enough for everyone to hear but also not overpowering the conversations. 

“Does anyone have any idea what your boggart might turn into?” Nott was suddenly next to Neville, causing him to jump as the shorter boy spoke up. He looked at the other boys with a curious look in his eyes, perhaps appearing a tad nosy as he glanced between them. 

“I… I guess Professor Snape, maybe?” Neville laughed nervously. “I’m always messing up during his lessons, and he is always mad at me… I think he scares me the most.” 

“Professor Snape?” The Slytherin students all stared at him with lack of understanding written on their faces. 

“Is he really that frightening?” Nott frowned, leaning his head to the side. 

Neville shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “He always reprimands me, even when I manage something, which isn’t often, but it happens, he… he seems angry. It frightens me.” 

“He really isn’t angry.” Harry carefully told his friend. “He is stern, sometimes rather close minded, and very serious about potions, but he doesn’t dislike you and he isn’t mad. I understand that it can appear that way, but he is a teacher, not some adult-child seeking revenge on those who can’t defend themselves.” 

“He is usually reprimanding me too.” Nott tried to encourage the boy. “I mean, I know I deserve to be reprimanded, so I’m not that upset about it. Of course, you can still be uncomfortable with something just because I personally don’t mind, just thought you should know that you aren’t alone in being reprimanded by him.” 

“It still feels like he doesn’t like me. It almost… well, I always feel like he wants me to fail so that he can criticise me for it.” The boy sighed, looking to the side. 

Remus called for the class’ attention before anyone had the time to answer Neville, instead having to focus on their teacher. “I want everyone to gather in a line, no pushing, thank you. The first person will face their boggart, if it proves to be too much for them, I am ready to step in and assist at any time. If you see someone struggling, I want you all to start laughing. This is not to discourage the person themselves but to weaken the boggart. Is there anyone who would like to go first?” 

The class was trying to gather into a line, but they ended up pushing each other back and forth, the person who ended up in front of it all happened to be one of the Gryffindor students, a girl who Harry thought was named Parvati Patil but he wasn’t entirely certain. 

She stepped forward, holding her wand ready with a look of determination on her face. Remus nodded at her. 

“Ready?” 

“I was born ready, Professor!” She stated out loud causing some students to chuckle. The sound of their laughter caused the wardrobe to rattle slightly. The girl licked her lips before pointing her wand at the doors. “Give me your best shot, Mummy!” She yelled, trying to force her hand to remain steady. 

“Very good.” The werewolf encouraged her. “After Ms. Patil has countered her boggart, I want her to step aside and allow the next person to come forward. Well then, let’s begin.” He moved his wand towards the door of the wardrobe. 

The doorknob twisted open, revealing a bandaged hand coming from within the darkness of the piece of furniture. A mummy slowly stumbled out from it, the bandages pulled tight around a body with decayed, dried skin in an abnormal shade of deep, greyish mahogany. Its yellow teeth were bared through a hole in the wraps, and lifeless, blank eyes peered out at Patil. She trembled as it began slowly moving towards her, stretching for her with its decaying, hardened fingertips. 

“Riddikulus!” The girl pointed at the mummy. It’s bandages came somewhat loose before it tripped over them, falling face first onto the floor. The room erupted into laughter as the mummy tried to get back to its feet but only got itself more twisted up in its wraps. 

Remus laughed alongside the student. “Excellent, next person please.” He called as Patil moved away from the front, high fiving the boy behind her. 

Next was Seamus Finnigan, whom Harry knew as one of Weasley’s tormentors. He looked rather cocky as he stepped forward, pointing towards the fallen mummy. “Shall we dance?” His comment filled the room with laughter once more, causing the creature to shiver with the sound. 

The mummy managed to rise, twisting into something different which appeared far more human in nature. Before Finnigan stood a woman, or rather, what had once been a woman. Her greenish, bloated face made it seem like she had risen from the water as a corpse, her eyes appearing to be completely missing while her mouth was a toothless black hole. There was a moment of silence before the room was filled with a terrible, wailing shriek which caused more than one person to cover their ears. 

“Riddikulus!” Finnigan swung his wand, causing the Banshee to suddenly find herself in the middle of a very high opera tone. The sound stopped, then continued as she tried to scream one more, but all that left her lips was the intense crescendo of a French Opera. The entire class began laughing once more as the boy strode from the front, grinning proudly at the boy behind him. 

Dean Thomas was next, he looked ready to fight the boggart with his fists if he had to. He rolled his shoulder and readied his wand, lowering his center of gravity. “Let’s see if you can handle me.” He muttered through clenched teeth. 

The woman shrunk before him, twisting into a single, small object. Harry leaned forward to see what it was transforming into and found something which appeared to be a small hand. The skin had dried to the point of resembling greyish mahogany, clinging so closely to the bones in the hand, that the hand appeared to belong to a sculpture rather than anything which had once been human. It darted for the frightened boy like an insect, scurrying over the floor with great speed. The long, yellow and broken fingernails scraped over the floor as it came towards Thomas. The boy let out a squeak of fear before yelling the spell at it. 

“Riddikulus!” There was a noise and the disembodied hand turned into a foot. The foot slid over the floor but quickly came to a halt. It vibrated, the toes clenching as it tried to move forward but then simply fell over. There was no manner in which a foot could move around the way a dismembered hand could, leaving it to wriggle its toes desperately. Harry was standing too far away to see properly, but it seemed that the nails on the foot had been painted bright pink. The class laughed, pushing one another slightly so that they could see the small foot twitch angrily. 

“Next one.” Remus chuckled merrily, waving his arm to encourage that the next person stepped forward. 

Ron Weasley took his place before the boggart. Harry could see the smile on his dad’s face turn stiffer. The foot became very still, it was as if it had seen Weasley, thus locating its prey. Harry’s chest filled with an uncomfortable feeling that something was wrong. 

The foot twisted, something was spreading from it, a magic circle being painted in blood. The limb grew, became taller and humanoid until it had changed into a person. The person was a tall teenager, with pleasantly curled hair, a handsome face and a very gentle smile. The teenager stood in a magic circle, clearly painted in blood. At first glance, he appeared normal, yet upon looking again, the smile had too many teeth, the eyes were tinted red and his fingers were too long. Another thing which Harry noticed about the teenager was that his shape wasn’t quite right, he wasn’t fully there or real, but at the same time, he was real enough, like an image from a dream. 

Harry realised who he was looking at despite never having seen the teenager before. This was Tom Riddle. This was Lord Voldemort as he had appeared when he was young. 

Riddle didn’t say anything, but held out a hand towards Weasley, his movements calm and calculated. The tip of his finger began to bleed, the blood running from it like a river, pooling onto the floor. Weasley was pale as death, completely frozen in place as he stared upon the hand. He had begun panting and shaking, it was clear to any observer that he wasn’t capable of lifting his wand. 

Remus stepped forward, walking over to the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Weasley, it is alright, it is not real.”

Riddle’s head turned towards the werewolf, and it smiled. Weasley’s boggart had been so strange and unsettling to everyone present that they had forgotten to laugh, instead remaining unsure what action to take. This fuelled the creature which now turned to Remus, who was so focused on his student that he neglected to look at the changing boggart. 

Riddle twisted, he shrunk and became younger, yet remained human. Harry realised with a startle that the boggart had transformed into himself, an exact copy of the werewolf’s son. While Riddle had appeared to be a relatively vague reflection, or an overexposed picture, Harry’s shape was all the more real.

A murmur went through the crowd, causing Remus to turn towards his boggart. The false boy smiled up at his father, but then his face began to twist into a look of terror, his brows furrowing as his eyes filled with fear. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak, forming sentences which nobody heard. Then he took a step back as tears began forming in his eyes, he raised his arms to protect himself from something unseen. Upon the arms appeared deep gashes, caused by sharp claws. The false Harry sank to his knees, sobbing and bleeding before he froze, being lifted up by some invisible force as small, bleeding marks appeared around his shoulder and chest area. Something had bitten into him, something large and beast-like and unseen, something which was now lifting him up from the ground. 

Remus stared, standing helpless before his son who was bleeding, sobbing and hanging in the air, as the blood on his shirt blossomed into pools. Harry understood what he was seeing, he understood what the boggart was showing the man. Remus blinked, lifted his wand but hesitated once again. 

Harry broke from the line, hurrying past his friends and stepped past both Weasley and his dad, facing the boggart. The bleeding Harry locked eyes with him, the tears froze on its cheeks before it twisted into another human shape. 

“Whatever you are, I’m not scared.” Harry whispered, watching as it twisted and changed further. 

Harry hadn’t quite expected his boggart to be human, yet he found himself face to face with another person. Sirius Black was standing in front of him, holding a knife in his hand. He stared blankly at Harry, his eyes so very dark and empty that they could have belonged to a corpse, his frame thin and bony and his hair wild and long. There was a murmur throughout the crowd, the man’s presence seemed to create far more fear in the room than anything prior. The man stepped toward, lifting his knife. The boggart seemed stronger than before, its presence almost seemed to fill the room with cold as it moved towards Harry. 

“Riddikulus.” Harry felt the power of the word as he uttered it, he almost felt as if he was addressing the magical creature, claiming its efforts to frighten him to be ridiculous to him. He wasn't even thinking clearly, he simply knew that he wanted to best the creature before it had any more of a chance to hurt his dad. 

Sirius Black changed in stepping forward, shrinking together and morphing. Before the crowd appeared a small basset hound puppy with huge ears. It tried to step forward but its little paws slipped on the floor, causing it to stumble. Thus, it tripped on one of the big ears and tumbled over. Part of the crowd awed, another chuckled while some simply laughed. The boggart puppy whimpered as Harry stepped forward, picked the dog up and promptly put it back in the wardrobe. It felt just like a normal dog as he touched it, and the look which it gave him before he closed the door was one of deep betrayal and sadness which made Harry feel like a monster for shutting the puppy away. Nonetheless, the door closed and the boggart was returned to darkness. 

“...Excellent, Mr. Lupin.” The Professor smiled at his son, clearly shaken. “I… Let us take a short, ten minute break. I simply need to… to… catch myself. I apologise for the lack of professionalism… Excuse me.” He stepped to the side table, reached out to grab a piece of chocolate before relocating himself to the other side of the wardrobe for the sake of some privacy. 

Harry glanced towards Weasley, who looked back at him before quickly avoiding his eyes, his face once more red and his eyes somewhat wet. Malfoy quickly approached them both alongside Neville. Hermione was hurrying past the crowd to join them as well. When Weasley realised that he was surrounded by the quartet, he slowly pulled himself to the side to go stuff his face with some chocolate. 

“I’ll be right back.” Harry excused himself from his friends before following his father. 

He found Remus leaning against the wardrobe, looking stressed and pale, yet he wasn’t crying and he hadn’t broken down, not willing to let his emotions get the best of him during class. The son of a werewolf smiled at his dad, who spotted him and pulled him into his arms to hug him tightly, so very tight that Harry couldn’t quite breathe for a second. 

“I’m fine, dad.” Harry hugged him in return, allowing the man to squeeze him. “Nothing happened. That wouldn’t happen.” He didn’t mention the event for what it was, yet the boy understood well that his dad’s biggest fear was hurting him in his werewolf shape. He was scared of turning him, forcing the condition which he so feared onto his beloved son. Harry hated that he couldn’t tell the man more encouraging words, he hated that he couldn’t tell him that he wasn’t scared of the werewolf without risking somebody listening in on them and realising his dad’s secret. 

Remus let go of him, then reached out to check both Harry’s arms and his shoulder, confirming that his son really was unharmed. His son let him, hoping that it might help calm the parent down. 

“You’re… really fine?” The man whispered. 

“I am. Will you be able to finish the lesson?” His dad was still holding on to him, his hands grabbing his shoulders as he looked into his eyes with insecurity and worry. Harry patted his arm, his face relaxed and his smile calm. 

“Yes… Yes.” Remus nodded, taking a deep breath. “Was it… saying something? I couldn’t hear but it seemed to be speaking to me.”

Harry shook his head. “No, the lips were just moving. It said nothing.” 

“Good… Yes, that is good.” The man let go of his son, continuing to take deep breaths. He was beginning to calm down, that much was clear. Remus managed to give him a shaken smile back. 

  
  


Ten minutes later, the werewolf was standing in front of his class, looking as collected as he was when the lesson had started. Harry had returned to his friends where he was promptly hugged by Malfoy, tight enough to squeeze the air out of him yet again. He assured his friend that he was fine but Malfoy only gave him a weak whine in response, refusing to let him go just yet. 

“I apologise for my break there.” The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor began. “As I am sure you have all understood, I was not prepared for what shape my boggart would take. Like I stated earlier, a boggart can change as your biggest fear changes. I was very certain that I knew what my greatest fear was, thus I found myself caught off guard when it was something different. It is probably a good lesson to learn that fear can always take you by surprise, and it is good to be prepared for the unexpected. There have been some universally heavy boggart shapes from the last students, and myself, I understand that you are all affected by this and I apologise. Are you feeling ready to continue the lesson or would you like some more time?” 

At his question, some students hesitated, others had moved off the floor to take the class with a teacher rather than perform in front of the class. Still, there was a collection of students who were willing to continue, thus the lesson continued anew. Weasley had gotten chocolate and something to drink, and was watching from the sidelines, seemingly calmer and ever so slightly better off.

The boggart was released once more, this time turning into a big fish which was reshaped into a squeaky cat toy, an army of mice which became paper rats, and a large, black dog which was transformed into a balloon animal. The room was once again filled with joy and laughter, the earlier cold and fear being replaced by fun. 

The turn came to Neville, who stepped forward with a tense look on his face. The balloon animal twisted before him, returning to a humanoid shape. Everyone present had learned to recognise the human shapes as the worst ones. It was as if the room was holding its breath as they waited for whatever face the boggart would wear next. 

It appeared as Hermione Granger. She was laughing, talking about something but her voice came from far away, in fragmented sentences. She turned and suddenly became limp, the light disappearing from her eyes as she shrunk together on the floor, her eyes still open but her whole being unresponsive. There came a whisper from behind Neville as the room reacted to what had happened to her. 

Harry recalled his dad’s words about laughter being able to help someone who was dealing with a boggart. He started laughing, it was false and loud, but it made Neville remember that he was in class and that the unresponsive girl in front of him wasn’t real. Malfoy realised what he was doing and joined in with the laughter, pushing Nott to do the same. It felt wrong, and it was very uncomfortable, but at the very least it worked against this magical creature.

“Riddikulus!” Neville pointed at the body of his friend, banishing the body by turning it into a green mattress. The object was so strange and unexpected that it caused quite a few people to chuckle. 

Neville exchanged places with Malfoy, who appeared collected and determined. Harry could tell that he was nervous, but to someone who didn’t know him he probably seemed to be confident. 

The green mattress melted into smoke, rising slowly in the room until it was visible to everyone in the room. Someone gasped. Harry could already see the color draining from Nott’s and Neville’s faces before the smoke began to form. A green skull made out of smoke hovered above the students, opening its mouth to release a slithering snake made out of smoke. The snake opened its mouth, silently hissing at the students. A lot of Slytherin students seemed more than a little uncomfortable, while many Gryffindor students appeared confused or uncertain. Someone laughed but Harry wasn’t sure if it was a response to encourage Malfoy or one which was triggered by fear. 

The Death Eater mark hung above the class, silently slithering around in the air as the smoky skull continued to scream in equal silence. 

“Riddikulus!” Malfoy yelled, pointing at the mark with a forceful movement of his wand. It burst into colorful fireworks, which were far less loud than real fireworks. They were more spectacle and color than they were loud. The students didn’t quite laugh, but some found the display appealing, judging by their voices. 

The blond boy switched places with Nott, whose boggart twisted into a Dementor. The boy struggled with the spell, continuously failing to cast it until Remus stepped in once more. This time, the boggart didn’t have time to remain in Harry’s shape for longer than a second before it was turned into a Chow chow puppy, the little dog more fur and fluff than it was a dog. While the puppy moved around in front of them, stumbling around on stubby legs while being unable to see clearly with all the fur, Remus asked if Nott wanted to try again. The boy did want to try again, and had to repeat the process three times in total before he managed to transform the Dementor into something funny. That funny thing being the same Dementor but with a short skirt and high stockings, complete with high dagger heels. The legs were completely normal and human in every way except for the fact that they were grey and more or less hairless. The change made the class roar with laughter. 

The lesson continued until everyone who wanted to had gotten a chance to face the boggart, upon which it was placed into the wardrobe, this time in the shape of a chubby pug. Remus turned to his class and asked them to gather around. 

“If you do remember anything from this lesson in the future, try to recall that there are always things to fear, no matter who you are or where you are in life. There is no shame in being frightened. Society and the people around you might convince you that fear is shameful but it is not. Neither is it brave to force yourself to overcome your fears. There is great value in trying to overcome that which you fear, yet that does not mean that it has to happen in one day. You are allowed to take your time and work through what fears might be important to overcome for the sake of growing as a person. Sometimes, overcoming your fears aren’t always necessary, yet running from them might come to hurt you later.” He took a deep breath, giving them a tired yet knowing smile. “Nobody is above fear, fear often makes us commit mistakes and sometimes hurt one another. If you can, do not allow fear to cut you off from other people, do not allow it to justify bigotry or discrimination.” 

“Take the time during the Holidays to allow yourself to rest. Find comfort in the things you enjoy and the people you feel safe with. You might find the need to reflect and speak of the things you saw here today, or what you learned about yourself when facing your boggart. Do not hide from speaking, there are people who are capable and willing to help you, be it a friend, family, teachers or a counselor. You have all done tremendously well today, that includes those of you who did not face your boggarts on this particular occasion.” Remus finished his class by speaking some of how and where the individual boggart lessons would take place and that the people in question would be summoned for it before the break. 

Finally, he encouraged the students to have some water, fruit or candy before leaving, then sent them off. Harry stopped to hug the man once more. The hug was brief but his dad definitely needed it. The last thing Harry saw before the door closed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that day was his father standing in the middle of it, alone, calm and although stressed, serene. He smiled at his son, waving after the boy with the knowledge that he would see him soon again. Remus clearly belonged in that classroom. In almost every way, he appeared to be the very opposite of Professor Snape, who had appeared so very out of place in the room.


	14. Chapter 13 - In which Remus Lupin is reunited with an old friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus gave him a weak smile in return before hiding in his hands, shaking his head as he laughed without joy. “I don’t… I still feel uncertain what happened. I was a fool for not realising that my boggart had changed shapes, how could it still be the same when I have my son to worry about? I should have known and still I…” He felt stressed, the words colliding on his tongue, dismembering themselves into noises. The event was just a few days ago and he had not given himself the opportunity to consider just how strongly the boggart had affected him. 

Life at Hogwarts was pleasant. 

There was a lot of food to eat for every meal, there was no need for cooking or cleaning. Remus didn’t have to worry about costs for warmth during the winter, and had more than plenty of money from actually being employed. One truly did end up saving a lot then all meals and accommodations were already paid for. There was always something to do, be it lesson planning, teaching, lecturing or advising students on their projects or in life. Remus never felt alone or despairing, he was very happy to be able to actually work in the profession which he wanted to work in. 

Still, the Holidays were approaching and with them some very welcome rest. He hadn’t really thought of needing rest, as he was given plenty if he asked for the sake of recovering from his transformations. He did encourage his students to rest, so the man felt like he had to at least try and be a positive example. However, to have half a month completely without any lessons or the need to work felt somewhat unreal, despite the fact that it should be normal to the usually unemployed werewolf.

Remus thought of the previous Holidays as he sat alone by his desk, in his office, slowly swirling his old quill between his fingers. Last year had been very eventful, with a lot of activities. He knew that Harry was happy to stay at Hogwarts, as most of his friends were staying as well. Malfoy was also spending this year at the school, yet had agreed to come home and visit his mother on the twenty fourth, with the help of Remus. The man had exchanged letters with Narcissa Malfoy, coming to the agreement that he would apparate to Malfoy Manor with the boy and then come to collect him the next day. Her son wasn’t too thrilled but he also didn’t object to the idea. The werewolf couldn’t be sure, but he got the impression that the boy was trying to avoid his father. 

Harry and his friends had asked Professor Dumbledore for permission to allow the Gryffindor students to be allowed in the Slytherin common room during the Holidays, to which the old wizard had enthusiastically agreed. Remus had gone with them to fill up their book stocks from the library, allowing them to have reading material for the entirety of the Holidays. Remus wasn’t uncomfortable around the children, but he felt very aware of his age and height. He wasn’t unhappy, yet it was strange to think that he truly had grown up. That he had grown old enough to raise a child and see him make friends. Remus tried not to think too hard about it, as he wasn’t quite ready to let his emotions get the best of him in public. 

As he sat by the desk, he found that he was getting somewhat restless. The quill in his hands was getting somewhat ruined, thus he decided that he probably shouldn’t fiddle with it any further. He considered going to search for Severus, maybe ask him if the man wanted to have a cup of tea with him and talk about something pleasant. Last year, it felt like Remus had managed to reach him somehow, like he had been allowed the privilege of being around his former friend. However, nothing of that closeness remained this year. 

Severus was even more distant, ever so fleeting. He was only allowed to talk about necessary matters or exchange lesson plans with the man. If he tried anything other than that, such as inviting him for tea, the Potions Master stayed far away. Remus couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something wrong and was punished by not being allowed to see his former friend. 

Severus was right there, yet Remus felt like he was unable to reach the person he knew to be behind the professional, stern facade. It hurt to be constantly rejected, yet the man knew better than to think that he was entitled to someone else’s time just because he wanted some of it. 

The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor stood up from his desk, looked around his office before deciding that he needed to do something with his hands instead of his mind. He hadn’t baked anything since he came to Hogwarts, but he knew that there was a small kitchen available for the teachers to use if they desired to make something on their own, rather than to have the House Elves cook for them. Hardly anyone used the kitchen, but every staff member was allowed to. 

The students had left Hogwarts the day prior. Remus thought that he was prepared for the silence which would come with them leaving, but as he walked down the empty and somewhat chilly corridors, he found himself frightened by the silence. At least there were no basilisks secretly slithering around the halls, which was a vast improvement from last year. This year's terror was something far more human, yet nonetheless frightening. Luckily, there had been no more signs of Sirius Black since he broke in the week before Halloween. He hurried on to the small kitchen, trying hard to not think of the almost suffocating lack of noise which seemed to fill every empty hall. 

Remus opened the door to the kitchen, slipping inside without too much noise, but then froze where he was standing.

The room was small, equipped with a stove to his immediate right, followed by shelves and a pantry. Right ahead of him was a small table, accompanied by a wooden couch and two chairs. Upon the couch sat Severus Snape, drinking tea alone in the otherwise empty room. He was dressed in the same manner as he always was, his long, black robes covering him up from view, yet his hair was removed from his face, tucked behind one ear as to not spill into his tea. The werewolf was more than a little ashamed over the excitement he felt from just seeing one of the man’s ear. Severus had always been so very covered up, and he had always hidden behind his hair, so to find the man so comfortable with himself that he could remove the wall which protected him from the world, made his former partner feel very happy for him. In reality, he was probably overreacting due to the surprise and nervousness of the situation.

Remus couldn’t help but smile at the man, his features softened by happiness over finally meeting the man in a place where they had the ability to speak freely to one another. “Hello. I didn’t expect to meet you here, of all places.”

Severus looked up at him with an unimpressed expression on his face. His dark eyes avoided the werewolf’s before he very slowly shrugged. “I expected to be left alone in this place. Few ever venture here for their needs.” As he spoke, he lifted his hand to move the hair which was tucked behind his ear.

“I suppose you would know that better than I.” The werewolf chuckled, unable to stop his heart from beating faster in his chest with joy over just seeing the man. It almost felt childish to be this happy just to meet somebody else, yet Severus’ company was much welcomed. “Do you mind if I use the kitchen to bake something?”

Severus very much looked like he minded, yet he slowly sighed in a manner which was just long enough to seem over-exaggerated. The man slowly waved his hand in what was almost a grand gesture, showing towards the stove. “It is not my kitchen.” He concluded dismissively. 

“Thank you.” The werewolf began searching through the pantry and shelves, finding them well stocked by some likely loyal House Elf who kept the supplies fresh and relevant. Remus managed to find a lot of what he was looking for, thus began pulling flour, eggs and butter out. He could feel the other man look at him as he searched for ingredients. 

Remus found the ingredients which he needed, then turned towards the cookbook which didn’t exist. He found himself searching for it before he realised that there were no cookbooks around. That was somewhat of a problem, even if he knew the rough ingredients, he didn’t know how to actually bake without a recipe. As he thought about what to do, the man behind him spoke up. 

“What is it that you are planning on making?” 

Remus turned towards the man, who didn’t avoid his eyes but didn’t look directly at them, he was instead looking at the ingredients. “I was thinking that I wanted something with chocolate but I forgot that I don’t know any recipes in my head.” The werewolf sighed as he scratched the back of his head, frowning at the objects before him. 

“You wish to bake on your own?” Remus was certain that Severus was the only person who could make a question sound nothing like a question. “The House Elves would be happy to make something for you, that is what they do.” 

“I don’t so much want to eat as I want to make. It calms me down, makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something.” Remus began opening a few of the cupboards, hoping in vain that there might be anything to help him bake. Just as he resigned to having to go to the library to get a book, Severus spoke up. 

“You can bake something decent with what you have in front of you.” His voice was as dry as always, and his face appeared displeased. Remus wasn’t sure why but it felt like an improvement over the strict looks and empty impressions which he had been given so far this year. 

“I… can?” Remus looked back at the ingredients. “I wanted something with chocolate, but there is no-”

“Of course you do.” The man interrupted the werewolf. The man was well aware of Remus’s fondness for chocolate. “You can use the cocoa powder to create something similar to chocolate if you do not have any bars to use for your baking.”

Remus found himself staring at the other before he began to smile, leaning his head to the side. “Would you perhaps want to tell me how you have such great knowledge of baking?” 

The Potions Master scoffed. “I have been working with Potions for over ten years, do you truly believe me to be unable to understand the result of combining simple household ingredients?” Once again, he was asking a question but making it a statement instead. 

“Then,” Remus asked innocently. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to help me bake something then?”

The more experienced Professor gave him a disapproving glare, one which made Remus avoid his eyes but which did nothing to smother the smile on his lips. 

Silence lingered between them until the former Slytherin student sighed, nodding slowly. “I will direct you on how to bake your cake. I suppose you don’t mind Lava cake? It would be the least time consuming out of the cakes you could bake.” 

“I do like Lava cakes.” Remus agreed. “Do you perhaps think that there is any fruit to have with it?” He turned towards the shelves again, attempting to reopen the one with a cooling ward in place, but Severus halted him by telling him that there were bananas in the fruit bowl on the table. Remus concluded that that was good enough. 

The werewolf began to bake, following the instructions given to him by the other man. They didn’t talk as much as the Potions Master directed what he should do and how much he should have of every ingredient. Remus trusted him, but added a little extra sweetener, despite the other man claiming that it was enough as it was. Soon enough, the cake batter was ready but Remus found that he had forgotten to start up the oven, thus they needed to wait before it could be properly cooked. The werewolf used magic to have the dishes wash themselves as he sat down opposite to Severus, smiling at him. 

“Thank you.” He began, causing the Head of the Slytherin House to wave his gratitude away. Silence lingered once more before Remus found something to speak about. “I have heard from my son that your lecture on werewolves was the best lecture he has ever had. He was very happy and proud over the content which you presented and discussed. Apparently the first minutes caused quite the stir.” He rested his elbows on the table, trying to not lean too close to the other man. “How very unlike you.” He finished with a joke, leaning his head to the side once more. 

“I suppose you are right.” Severus leaned back on the couch, holding onto his cup of tea while not quite facing the other man. “Perhaps it is unlike me to cause a stir, yet I find myself tired of these endless misconceptions about a subject I am well versed in.” 

“Are you sure you do not need my help grading those assignments?” Remus felt how worry slipped into his voice. “You have given the same assignment to two entire years, I could help you wi-” It was not a question whether grading that very amount of assignments was too much for a single person. One could manage, but not without mentally exhausting oneself to extreme points. In the end, Severus had elected to hold the werewolf lecture for not only the third year students, but also the fourth years students, since it could rather easily be argued necessary due to the previous teacher being a fraud, now residing in Azkaban. He had also given his assignment to the entire student bodies of both years. It wouldn't have surprised Remus if Severus would have given it to the whole school, but such a thing wouldn't have been possible.

“I do not need you help, Lupin.” The man interrupted him once more, shutting the werewolf down with a stern voice.

Remus recalled what Draco Malfoy had said about the man, how his mother worried about Severus for hiding his emotions by working, allowing work to push everyone else away. It truly wasn’t a healthy behavior, one which Remus wished that he could affect for the better, but he knew he wasn’t allowed close enough to be able to help the man change. He wished that he could reason with the Potions Master, yet he knew that Severus wouldn’t listen to his words of advice. 

“Then I won’t push it on you, but know that I would assist you if you asked.” Remus promised the other, much to Severus’ barely hidden annoyance. “Also…” He couldn’t hold back from smirking as he switched the subject. “Are we not on a first name basis anymore?”

“What made you think that we would be in the first place?” The Potions Master all but scoffed at him. 

“Oh, just you calling me by my name when Siri-, Black broke into Hogwarts before Halloween.” The lighthearted tone which he tried to maintain died as he uttered Sirius’ name, the word seemingly souring the entire conversation. 

Severus clicked his tongue with annoyance, he appeared more embarrassed than he did angry. Remus could tell from the scents which came from the man. “I suppose I might have… possibly referred to you by name, yes.” The Potions Master finally muttered out. 

“Would you mind if I-”

“Yes. Yes I would.” The man cut him off, causing Remus to quickly glance to the side in a manner reminiscent of a scolded dog. 

“Sorry.” The werewolf sighed, resting his head in his hand. He didn’t so much appear to be sulking as he appeared uncertain of what to do with himself.

Once again, silence settled between them. Remus tried to think about something to say but couldn’t quite settle on what to speak of. To his surprise and excitement, the other man spoke up first. 

“On the topic of werewolves, your boggart caused quite the stir around Hogwarts.” The Professor did not sound gentle, but a tiny bit of compassion and care seeped into his voice, making his words all the softer to the werewolf’s ears. He rather needed that with such a heavy topic. 

“I… Did anyone…” Remus’ words got stuck in his throat, unable to speak what weighed so very heavily on his mind. He had opted not to think of the possibility that someone might have figured out his condition and spread it around the school. He had chosen to try and block out the fact that someone could have connected his fears of Harry being attacked by a werewolf to him being the werewolf attacking his son. It wasn't impossible for someone to figure out that the reason as to why the attacker was invisible was due to Remus not actually knowing what he looked like while in that shape. 

Severus shook his head. “Nobody has made such a connection yet. Some are theorising that you are frightened by werewolves due to not holding any lectures, lessons or handing any of the assignments which deals with the disease. Some whisper about the scars on your face possibly having been caused by a werewolf, I suppose they’re not wrong in that aspect. Most people assume you to be suffering heavily from Lupophobia, as the idea of a werewolf attending Hogwarts is that very unthinkable to most.” Something softer eased the man’s gaze as Remus glanced up at him, a gentle concern which reminded him of the teenager he had dated. The softness disappeared quickly, yet the man no longer appeared quite as stiff. “You do not have to worry.” His words were little more than a whisper. 

Remus gave him a weak smile in return before hiding in his hands, shaking his head as he laughed without joy. “I don’t… I still feel uncertain what happened. I was a fool for not realising that my boggart had changed shapes, how could it still be the same when I have my son to worry about? I should have known and still I…” He felt stressed, the words colliding on his tongue, dismembering themselves into noises. The event was just a few days ago and he had not given himself the opportunity to consider just how strongly the boggart had affected him. 

Remus had needed to keep face in front of his students, and he didn’t quite know what to do with the overwhelming fear from what he had seen in the first place. He hid in his arms, he was not crying as much as he felt the anxiety rise in his chest, the panic building in his head. Had he given it a thought, it probably shouldn’t surprise him that he would break down in front of Severus of all people. Whatever facade he would be willing to keep up in front of the other teachers and adults present at the school felt completely needless in front of the Potions Master. To even try felt almost ridiculously pointless. There was no state of sadness which the man had not already seen him in, at least during some point in his life. 

The werewolf heard the other man stand up from the wooden couch, seemingly about to leave. Remus accepted it, silently resigning to the fate of being left alone with his overwhelming feeling of regret. There was another noise closer to him, next, he felt a somewhat warm hand move past his defenses and touch his cheek, the hand feeling so very painfully wonderful that the werewolf feared his heart might break. He leaned into the hand, capturing it with his own and kept it pressed against his face, clinging to it like it was the one thing in the world which could save him at that moment. 

“Remus.” Never had his own name made him tremble like that. He experienced the word as if it has entered within him, heating up his very core and soothing the painful anxiety and regret which threatened to devour him. “You have advised your students to speak up regarding the stress of experiencing the boggart. If your words are to hold any merit, you need to follow your own advice.” 

The werewolf shook his head, clinging to the hand which had been granted to him, to the warmth and the contact which he so desperately desired. It wasn’t necessarily a sexual desire in any way, Remus didn’t need a partner so much as he needed a friend, someone to remind him that the world wasn’t as cold and lonely as he was often led to believe by his darker thoughts. 

In reality, Remus did not want to talk about what had happened in that classroom. It had shaken him up a lot and a part of him felt like it would be better to just shut it down deep within him and forget about the weakness. Yet, as Severus didn’t hesitate to point out, it went against everything he had tried to communicate to his students. For once, he had the option of confiding in someone whom he trusted, someone who already knew more or less everything about him. 

Slowly, he began confiding in the man, stumbling out noises which formed words, which in turn shaped sentences. He spoke about the feelings which he had experienced as he turned to find the boy bleeding and crying. He confessed how he had been utterly powerless to make such a horrifying scene funny. Remus expressed further how his love for his son had made him incapable of turning him into something which might make a mockery of his child in front of the people he would be stuck with for five years to come. All the things he could think of might cause people to laugh at, or mock Harry, which had made his dad hesitate even further. 

It had actually made him feel better to speak of the event, Remus felt the knot of anxiety and regret ease within his chest, making him feel more of a person again. Nothing was quite as dehumanising to the werewolf as feeling drowned by his own emotions. Being an adult didn’t mean he would need to confide in someone any less. He smiled at the other man, finally allowing him to pull his hand back. 

“I… think I forgot my cake. I’ll just put it in the oven and be right back?” He didn’t mean to make the statement a question but he accidentally did. Severus waved his hand, signalling for the werewolf to finish what he was doing. Remus noticed just how close the man was before he stood up, Severus had moved to the chair right next to the him and there he remained as the former Gryffindor student got to his feet. He had expected the man to move as well, to put further distance upon completing his task of comforting the werewolf, but he didn’t. 

Remus placed the cake into the oven before turning back to the other man. “For how long should it be in?” He remained standing, leaning against the counter. He had a feeling that he might forget about his baking project completely if he returned to his seat in front of his old friend. 

“Twelve or so minutes. I will tell you when it is done.” The Potions Master stated with such certainty that Remus couldn’t do anything but believe him. 

“Do you remember when we were young and they forced everyone to face their boggarts one after another, in front of the entire class?” Remus sighed, feeling the anxiety pulse through him once more. “I never forgot that fear, standing in front of everyone as that bright full moon illuminated the room. Sometimes when I’m having nightmares, I find myself back in that class.” He chuckled, not because he was amused but because he didn’t know what else to do to escape his bottled up feelings. “It might just have been in front of the Gryffindor students, but to have your fears revealed like that, to a collection of thirteen year olds who will exploit anything they can to hide from their own insecurities… I vowed that if I ever held that class, I would make certain to do it better. To make certain I did it right.” He looked at the other man, met his eyes with a determinate gaze. “I think… my boggart scared those children more than their own boggarts ever could. I guess that doesn’t make me completely redeemed, at least in my own eyes.” 

“You are too hard on yourself.” Severus stated as a fact, his gaze and expression serious. 

“I don’t think you have the right to lecture me on that.” Remus smiled at him, leaning his head to the side. “It is rather interesting to me,” the werewolf changed the subject, choosing to redirect both their attention towards something new. “That my son shares a boggart with you. Or, well, the thirteen years old you.” 

“...Is that so.” The Potions Master met his gaze, for a second stealing the werewolf’s breath away. Instead of the usual disinterested, distant look which the man had shown him so many times over, he was met by an attentive, interested expression. It seemed Remus' words had both taken the man by surprise and intrigued him quite some. Age had changed the man, made his features more defined and then softened them again. However, the eyes of the teenager who Remus had found a connection with was still the same, despite the years which had passed. The look of curiosity and interest, the very intensity of the gaze, was just the same as it always had been. It still made his heart race. Almost as if Severus had somehow managed to hear his thoughts, he looked somewhat bewildered and averted his eyes for a second, scoffing before he seemed to catch himself and glanced back at Remus. 

“Yes,” Remus found himself smiling, the other’s expression making him more happy than he could possibly have prepared himself for. It wasn’t really an opportune time or subject to be smiling at. “He saw Sirius.” 

Severus blinked rapidly, as if every blink was needed to collect himself as he sat up straighter in the chair, appearing the very picture of attentiveness. “It took Black’s shape?” 

“Yes, but he made it into a puppy. One of those with very long ears. It tripped and rolled over on its back.” Remus chuckled as he retold the story, unable to hold the amusement back as he thought of the scene. 

“How… cute, I suppose.” The Potions Master responded dryly. 

“Not even you can dislike puppies, can you?” Remus grinned at him now. “If I recall, you didn’t use to mind dogs.” 

The man looked away. “I never knew any dogs, I was stuck with an attention starved mutt.” 

The werewolf burst out laughing, shaking his head at the other’s words. “I guess I’m no better now, still weak to touches and the like.” He shrugged, suddenly feeling a little bad. “I… am sorry that I am pushing myself onto you now, just as I did back then…” Remus sighed, rubbing his neck while keeping his eyes locked on an imperfection in the wall. 

“We were teenagers, we were equally using each other. You did not by any means force yourself onto me back then,” Severus stated, not too forcefully but with certainty. “Further, we’re not the same as we were back then. I… suppose I might be a little tired of… No, it does not matter. I chose to touch you, do not dismiss the decisions I have made. You are disrespecting my integrity by doubting the actions I have taken in claiming to be responsible for them.” 

Remus hesitated, then smiled again, somewhat uncertain but happy to have the confirmation he did not need to feel like he was intruding. He was about to speak but Severus told him that the cake was likely finished. He turned towards the oven, grabbed a mitten and brought the cake out. Seeing as it was a lava cake, he turned it over on a plate, shaking it free from the cake pan. After some quick cutting up of bananas and making some tea to go with the chocolate, Remus sat down next to the Potions Master. He handed the other man a spoon, which Severus reluctantly accepted. 

The werewolf cut the cake open with his fork, watching as the chocolate slowly poured out from within the cake, the lava spreading over the plate as it was allowed to escape. He dipped a banana in the chocolate and ate it. “...Ah, that’s a little too sweet.” 

“I told you not to add more sweetener.” The Potions Master reminded him coldly as he moved some of the actual cake onto his spoon and tasted it. “Not horrible.” He concluded before having a piece of banana. 

“Thank you for helping me.” The werewolf smiled, continuing to eat the sweet, warm cake while pairing it with banana to keep it a little more balanced than just eating the chocolate. “I’m amazed that you could make this out of just looking at the ingredients.” 

“You are easily impressed.” The man rejected his compliment as if it was as natural as breathing to him. 

For a while, they didn’t speak, Remus enjoyed his small cake while Severus took a bite every now and then. The small room filled with the sound of silverware against ceramic as they sat in silence. 

“I must admit that there is something which has been weighing on my mind.” The Potions Professor spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence. As he did, the werewolf caught a different scent coming from him. The man was no longer relaxed, instead, he appeared tense, somewhat confrontational, there was also a lingering scent of worry or perhaps even fear coming from him. Remus had found himself around so many people lately that it was almost strange to be able to smell the scents coming off a single person in a confined space. 

“If I can help ease it…” The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor left his offer hanging in the air. 

Severus looked at the cake, yet it was apparent that he didn’t actually see it. He was looking beyond it, staring into a world which Remus couldn’t see. “I have considered how Black got into Hogwarts in the first place. I am hesitant to accuse you of anything, as the man seems to be hunting your son, yet I’d like to hear what you have to say about it.” 

Remus immediately felt uncomfortable. Judging from the scent which came from the man, he truly wasn’t accusing him of anything, yet the words made it seem like other people might. It was no secret that Remus and Sirius had been friends when they were young, many Professors who worked at Hogwarts now had been employed back when he was young as well, meaning that there was little point in hiding it. It wasn’t too surprising to learn that some people doubted him. 

“I have discussed possible ways into Hogwarts with the Headmaster. I have done whatever I can to share my knowledge about the castle to protect the students from Black. There is nothing more I can do that I have not already done.” Remus stated his words as clearly as he could, making certain to show that he was not appreciating the idea that he was holding information from the staff and the other Professors. 

Severus didn’t so much hesitate as he waited. “If the opportunity arose, would you be able to capture Black?” His gaze was harsh, almost unforgiving. “Would you be too sentimental and let him run? Any weakness on your part might risk the safety of your son, his friends, or other students.” 

Remus held back from shuddering, he could feel himself getting more and more stressed with every word. “I know that!” He didn’t mean to raise his voice, quickly sinking back in shame, hiding behind his large hand. “I know that… Truly, I know. I… Would want to speak with him. There are so many things I don’t understand… I have so many questions…”

“What is there to question.” Severus’ voice was still harsh, not uncaring but so full of truth that there was no room for compassion. “He has always been a psychopath, uncaring towards anyone but Potter, and hurting everyone else he has ever been involved with.” 

“Yes, but it doesn’t make sense.” Remus objected, daring to face the other man. “You know as well as I do that Sirius loved James. I almost think that he has since the day they first met. It is true that he was jealous of Lily, but he was getting better. You didn’t know him after school, it is true that he was never a good person, but he was trying to behave for the sake of being allowed to visit James and his child. James was growing up, Sirius had to act an adult as well to be allowed to come visit them.” The words were suddenly flowing from his lips, the thoughts which he had locked away deep within him coming to the surface, escaping from his lips in what was almost a ramble. For so long he had disregarded his own suspicions and feelings on the matter. He had kept on telling himself that it wouldn't matter, that it didn't matter. Yet, now that he had started confessing, it felt impossible to stop.

“Sirius hated his mother, he hated her for trying to force him into becoming a Death Eater. He ran away from home at a young age to avoid her, he wanted nothing to do with them. He hated all the Slytherin students who were even rumored to be Death Eaters, which is one of the reasons as to why he targeted you so badly that year. I’m not claiming that to in any way be acceptable, we both know that it isn’t. However, Sirius hated Death Eaters, he had no contact with his family and should have no means by which to approach the Dark Lord and tell him of James and Lily’s location. Everyone thinks that he was the Dark Lord’s biggest supporter, the newspapers all claim him to be, but it just isn’t possible that he was.” 

“Then there is Peter. He never stood up to Sirius bullying once, always allowing the boy, and later man, to do whatever he wanted without hardly even objecting. Peter wasn’t brave, for him to chase after Sirius alone until he had cornered the man, risking his own life for the sake of revenge and bringing him to justice… That just isn’t the Peter I knew.” He was avoiding looking at the other man now, feeling guilty to speak about his former friends in such truthful words. 

“Then there was the trial. It happened so fast, over a night. There was no waiting, no gathering evidence or witnesses to speak of. There was only Sirius being thrown into Azkaban. The world was celebrating the defeat of the Dark Lord, yet locking Sirius away was important enough that it had to be done so very hastily… I understand that he was found at the scene, laughing like a maniac, but if he truly wanted to kill Peter since the beginning, why wouldn’t he? Why allow himself to be chased, rather than just turn around and end it before they got to such a dramatic point? I cannot understand it. I have too many questions and the only one who could possibly answer them would be Sirius.” 

He stopped, taking a deep breath before looking back at his former partner, giving him such an honest look of despair that Severus avoided his eyes. “I’m… sorry. I know it is selfish but… I would just want to talk to him. Maybe there is nothing to understand, maybe there is nothing to it and Sirius was insane and Peter was brave while James was…” He stopped before he finished his sentence, shaking his head again. “However, I won’t let my desire to know get in the way of protecting my child. If Sirius truly is mad, which is highly likely at this point, if there is nothing to know, I know what I have to do.”

Remus found Severus looking at him again, with such intensity and focus that it felt both intimidating and far too familiar. “... Well then. I believe that you will do what is right when the time comes. As for what you’re telling me...” He almost hesitated, but the silence only remained for long enough to become a pause. “Your recollection does not resemble the man I recall in any way. I would like you to think of what Black was like with the child. Try to imagine it as vividly as possible.” 

The werewolf hesitated, as it was a somewhat curious request, however, he had no reason to refuse the man’s demand. He closed his eyes, trying to picture the scene of Sirius meeting Harry for the first time. 

James and Lily presented the child to them, James holding the little bundle of a baby in his arms, looking prouder than Remus had ever seen him. Sirius stared at the bundle, a gentle expression softening his features as he had walked over to look down at the baby. He spoke in a low, kind voice, carefully holding out his finger to the child. The baby grabbed the finger, causing an expression of happiness and enjoyment to spread over the wizard’s face. 

The baby was lying on a soft blanket, scooting around from toy to toy as a big black dog rested next to the child. Lily was seated on the sofa, wrapped up in blankets with her husband by her side, the two of them watching over the baby and the animal. The baby stumbled, causing one of the toys to fly out of his hands and roll over the floor. Harry started to cry, yet the dog got up and brought the toy back, pushing it into the baby’s hands. Harry grabbed the dog’s snout instead. His mother was about to get up but the dog allowed the child to pull at its face, simply lying down and surrendering to it. 

‘This will be hilarious,’ Sirius' voice came from far away as Remus recalled his proud grin upon handing his best friend a tiny shirt which read the name of one of the Muggle music bands which Sirius liked. The logo was harsh with a dramatic font and lightning coming from it. James had grinned back as they dressed the baby in the band shirt, only to set him loose in the playpen. Both of them laughed as Lily came inside the room, finding her son wearing a brand new shirt. She looked from the baby to Sirius who looked somewhat guilty but also defiant. ‘I love that band, did you get one for me too?’ she asked, grinning at the two men who grinned back. Laughter filled the room, causing the young Harry to giggle as well. 

‘When you grow up, I bet you will become the greatest Quidditch player in all of the UK.’ Sirius was sitting in front of the fireplace, playing with the child who was resting in his lap. The man was wearing a black Muggle T-shirt which read Best Uncle. ‘I’m going to buy you the best broom ever, and you will crush your opponents, just like your dad did.’ He leaned down to buff his nose against the child’s cheek in a very dog-like manner. Harry grabbed his beard in return, which caused him to wince but then laugh. ‘Not you too. I think I look good in the beard, no matter what you Potters think.’ ‘You look like you could be a biker.’ Lily’s gentle voice came from outside of the scene. ‘Yeah, get yourself a motorbike. It would be fun.’ James agreed with his wife. Sirius grinned at them as he detangled himself from the baby. ‘You know what, I will. I’ll even make it fly.’ 

Remus opened his eyes, looking towards the other man with a somewhat uncertain frown. The gaze which met him frightened the werewolf. It was utterly empty. Severus' eyes had turned dark, not because he was angry but because he had completely shut himself down. The scent which came from him was sour and bitter, reminding the werewolf of a scent which a poisonous flower or plant might give off. Severus was evidently hurting.

It seemed that whatever practice of apathy the teenager he had known would have used to shield himself from his own emotions in the past had been beyond mastered as an adult. Remus recalled how Severus would shut everything down, choosing not to feel instead of dealing with the turmoil of emotions which threatened to shake him. The fact that he had become so very good at such an unhealthy practice was frightening, and it made the werewolf want to reach out to the man, to soothe him in the only ways he recalled worked. He wanted to be there for the other, for whatever he was feeling, perhaps even making up for his failures of the past, but he very much doubted that Severus would let him. 

“Severus…?” It felt too intrusive to speak his name, too powerful. It was not so much that names inherently carried power as much as the fact that some people simply didn’t have the right to use just any name. Severus’ was such a name, one which Remus had always felt bad for uttering out loud, as if the name itself was a closed wound which would bleed if provoked. Yet, to call him by a different name when he clearly needed to hear his own felt even more insulting to the man. 

“... Why is it not common knowledge that Black is an animagus?” The man’s answer was harsh, almost sharp as he demanded an answer. 

“It’s because-” Remus began but then stopped, realising that he hadn’t said anything about Sirius being an animagus. He stared at the other man, the emptiness was slowly disappearing from his gaze, making it easier to face him. How could he possibly know? Remus had made certain that only Professor Dumbledore knew, as well as Harry and his friends. Nobody could have told the man and yet… The werewolf realised that he had thought of Sirius and baby Harry hugging when the man was in the shape of a dog. 

_Legilimency_ , Remus thought. The other man glanced to the side, the movement was fleeting and quick, yet it was enough for Remus to confirm his suspicions. “You are a Legilimens. Since when? You couldn’t do that when we were still in school, I think.” The question flew from his lips, alongside things which he found himself not understanding. 

Severus sighed, leaning back in the chair with a displeased expression on his face, shaking his head. The expression of dislike was infinitely better in comparison to the empty mask. “It appeared later. It seems that I have a natural affinity for the art. These days, I catch stray surface thoughts no matter if I am trying to or not.” He sighed, keeping his gaze to the side. “Back then, I usually caught stray thoughts, little impressions, or intentions. I used to believe that I had simply overheard things or that I was that used to reading a person’s body language. I never thought that it was anything other than that, until Professor Dumbledore asked me about it after I had been hired to work at Hogwarts. With proper research, I was able to learn of the… gift, if you will, and began to understand what it was and how to wield it. I assure you, I am usually not trying to invade anyone’s mind or thoughts, yet I still catch those stray thoughts, despite not trying.” 

“So you had me think about those memories of Sirius so that you could bring the thoughts to the surface, making them easier for you to access?” The werewolf suggested. He felt somewhat uncertain over what to think about the whole scenario. On one hand, he did not enjoy having his mind invaded and his thoughts read, but on the other, it was just Severus. He already knew most things which Remus was ashamed of, and he knew that the Potions Master wouldn’t really judge him for anything. Severus if anyone was aware of the hypocrisy in being judgmental towards others, thus he wouldn’t judge. Not to mention that all the things which the man had just seen from inside his head, he would have explained to the other, had he asked. 

“Yes.” Severus confessed. “It is far easier than to search through your mind for the answer.”

“Oh,” Remus realised. “That is why Professor Dumbledore turns to you for confirmation? As you can read the person’s mind without too great an effort?” 

“It is by no means effortless, yet when a person lies, there are often many contradictory surface thoughts, making it easier to distinguish truth and lie.” The man explained. “When they are telling the truth, there are a lot of things on their mind, but they are mostly hesitant or uncertain if they are going to be believed or not. It's rather easy to distinguish, although there are far more elements to it when it does happen.” 

Remus realised something, sending a throb of guilt through his person. “Does that mean you… are aware of… uh, m-my feelings?” He managed to stumble out a sentence as his cheeks began to heat with an almost alarming warmth. 

The Potions Master sighed, lifting a hand to rub his brow. He didn’t answer right away, appearing to be very carefully choosing the words which to respond with. “You think very flattering things about me. Yet, do not worry yourself, I know that you have no intentions of forcing romance onto an unwilling party.” He sighed, sounding somewhat tired. 

“Have I done something wrong then? Is that why you are avoiding me?” Remus didn’t mean to ask the questions which had been burning through his mind for about half a year. If Severus could already read his mind, what was the point in hiding the painful questions from him. 

“No, I-” the man stopped himself before he could answer honestly. He bit his lower lip, a gesture which Remus recognised from their younger years attending school together. He hadn’t seen it since back then, the gesture was almost nostalgic. Judging by the way the other man reacted, he had read Remus’ thoughts, as he stopped biting on his lower lip. 

“...I don’t know what to make of you, Lupin.” Severus finally spoke up. “Whatever it is you want, whatever it is you think you desire of me… Whatever it is you think I am, I’m none of it. I’m not the teenager you remember. I can’t be that person, I have made too many faulty choices to be anything like it anymore.” 

“I ask for nothing but to be allowed to be your friend.” Remus responded within a heartbeat, feeling more honest than he had ever felt before. “You are the only one left. Everyone I had was taken from me. However, I have Harry, I can manage but… It feels pleasant to be around you. I can be honest with you in ways I can’t be with anyone else. It feels good to speak to another adult, although Harry has been a very good assistant to my mental health throughout these years. I just want a friend, I don’t expect you to be the same as in our past, I don’t expect us to be best friends, I just… Feel at ease with you.” 

“Whatever makes you feel at ease with me is clearly misplaced.” The man rejected him once more, avoiding his eyes. “However I… can tell that you are honest. You truly wish to be my friend, nothing more?” Judging by the way the man was looking at him, Severus was probably asking to make Remus think about it enough to derive an honest answer from him. 

Remus took a deep breath. “I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t attracted to you. I think you are very pleasing to me in a lot of ways. However, I’m not a teenager, the idea of throwing myself into a relationship with a person I don’t quite know, but who I find attractive, isn’t an option. It isn’t fair to me, it isn’t fair to you, and it most certainly isn’t fair to my son. If we get to know each other better, and if we find a connection again, I would be overjoyed to have the privilege of being with you, but as of now, I truly only seek friendship, nothing more.” 

The expression which formed on the Potions Master’s face was surprisingly vulnerable. He looked hurt, but not the type of hurt which simply wounded a person by the use of hurtful words. His hurt was deeper than that, it came from thinking that he wasn’t worthy of the things which Remus was speaking of. It came from the fact that he felt unworthy or incapable of the things which the werewolf spoke of, incapable of believing that someone wanted to be friends with him, probably even less capable to believe someone to want to be something more. 

“You are hopeless… You always were, weren’t you…?” The Potions Master mumbled. “Fine, fine. I… I resign.” He shook his head, turning somewhat to the side to avoid facing Remus. “If you truly desire friendship, I suppose I could stand to be… friendlier. With you.” For the first time in fifteen years, the man was hiding behind his hair, completely shielding himself from Remus. 

The werewolf had to hold himself back with all his might to keep from hugging the man. He bit his lower lip while beaming at the other, trying very hard to not assault the Legilimens with his excited thoughts. There was no need to speak, as his mind already showed just how much it meant to him to be allowed the other man’s friendship. 

The Head of the Slytherin House sighed deeply before moving his hand forward, allowing Remus to nuzzle against it, just like it had been back in their teenage. Remus grinned at the Potions Master, who gave him a very small smile in return. It seemed he was still capable of smiling. 

After their short moment of touch, which both of them seemed to desperately need but find themselves incapable of voicing that they needed, Severus repeated his question in regards to Sirius and his animagus shape. Remus explained in short terms that the Wizarding World tended to overreact, citing his fear for the safety of all canines in Britain if the knowledge became public. The other man agreed with his judgement on the matter. 

“Still…” Remus began. “Surely, you agree with me that there are too many things which don't make sense in regards to Sirius and everything which happened? I don’t think you are as ignorant as to be able to overlook the evidence in favor of convenience.” 

The man hesitated before speaking. “I admit that there is enough evidence to support that something isn’t quite as it should be.” Severus passively tapped a finger on the table as he spoke. “While I have no desire to engage with or ever see Black again, I am ever so certain that he will receive a Dementor’s Kiss as punishment for his escape. I am confident that there are enough questions for me to rather seek the answers than allow those answers to be lost forever. If… If there is a chance to hear Black, I would agree with you that the man should be heard. I would want to know the truth as well, even if you cannot expect me to think it in any way redeems Black for all he is and has done.” 

“Of course, protecting the children and students comes first.” Remus stated with certainty. 

“Naturally.” Severus agreed. 

The two sat in silence for a while, both deep in thought, before the werewolf spoke up. “With the permission of the Headmaster, I was going to spend the twenty fifth together with Harry and his friends in the Slytherin common room, alongside Professor Dumbledore.” 

“I am aware.” The Head of the Slytherin House stated calmly. 

“It would be very pleasant to have you join us.” Remus suggested, looking innocently at the other man. 

Severus sighed. “Yes, I… I shall consider it.” He stated as if he didn’t quite know with what emotion he wanted to accompany the words. 

The werewolf pulled some hair from own his face before leaning his head to the side in a relaxed gesture. “I hope so.” 

The former Slytherin couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “You should keep your thoughts under better control.” 

“Thinking that your eyes are beautiful isn’t illegal.” Remus answered in an innocent manner. 

Severus actually groaned in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **Muggle band T-shirt**  
>  If anyone is curious, it's an AC/DC t-shirt.
> 
>  **Cooking with magic**  
>  Different methods of cooking affects substances on a molecular level, and taste may vary slightly depending on how something is cooked. Most magic to cook is imprecise, instant and does not hold the same savory flavors which cooking by hand does, in this lore. Enchanting tools for the sake of making cooking more automatic is more common than actually magically cooking the food, for the result and flavor might be ruined if cooked by magic, entirely depending on what kind of magic.


	15. Chapter 14 - In which Theodore Nott plays Monopoly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He… truly did… I mean, he… was responsible for the incident last year. With Tom Riddle’s Diary.” The blonde mage’s sentences suffered as he tried to confess to what his father had admitted to be guilty of. 

The aftermath of the boggart lesson was quite evident in both Harry’s group of friends and among his classmates. Many seemed to have been emotionally and mentally affected by Remus’ boggart, leading to them having a hard time speaking to or addressing Harry. Apparently seeing him almost murdered made it hard to look into his eyes, which was rather understandable. Some people, like Malfoy, Nott, Neville and Hermione wanted to be closer to him than before. Especially Malfoy, who had taken to almost cling to Harry, as well as decided that he needed the two of them to share beds so that he was allowed some peace of mind. Harry didn’t mind in the least, as he very much appreciated the attention. Nott was shifting somewhat back and forth, wanting to either be close or stay away from Harry. The son of a werewolf didn’t mind so much, but it was somewhat unsettling to not know what to expect from hour to hour. 

Personally, Harry didn't feel too affected by the boggart. Sure, he was worrying about his dad and how the boggart might have affected the man, and it was a really scary display to begin with. There was still this sense of knowing that it wasn't real, which Harry suspected he wouldn't have felt if the boggart hadn't been of himself.

The Holidays came about, people left Hogwarts for their homes and family, yet Harry’s family remained at the school, allowing for him to celebrate with his friends and his dad. The fact that they had somehow gotten permission to have Hermione and Neville stay with them in the Slytherin common room for as much as they wanted during the winter break helped to make Harry all the more excited. 

Yet before any of that, Malfoy was going home to see his mother and father. He would leave on the twenty fourth and be back on the twenty fifth, which truly wasn’t that long. However, the blonde mage seemed stressed over the idea of returning home. Harry tried to ask him about it, but only received short answers about not really being thrilled to meet his father again. Malfoy didn’t want to say anything more than that, and he communicated it to Harry somewhat clumsily but ultimately honestly, causing the boy to try and help his friend think of other things instead of pushing him to give more defined answers. 

Remus and Malfoy left early in the morning, leaving Harry and Nott alone in their common room. Not that they were alone per say, but they were the only Slytherin students from their year who had opted to stay over the Holidays. Flint had chosen to remain as well, and upon hearing that Harry’s Gryffindor friends were allowed to visit the Slytherin common room, he went to the Head of their House to demand that Wood be allowed to visit freely as well. The two teenagers’ plan of spending the Holidays together became infinitely easier when there was no restriction for where they were allowed to meet. 

With the threat of Sirius Black still relevant, the students were served their meals in their common rooms, rather than having to leave to the Great Hall. There seemed to have been plans to hold a traditional celebratory feast in the Great Hall, yet the Headmaster had recently announced that smaller feasts would be held in all common rooms instead, and that any student was allowed to partake in whichever feast in whatever common room they wanted. 

Nobody had explicitly explained the reasoning for the younger students, but Sirius Black was a very different threat in comparison to the Heir of Slytherin. Black was an outside threat who had proven to be capable of breaking into the school. He had also proven to be more than willing to hurt and kill innocent bystanders to get to his target. If he made it to the Great Hall, he would likely be able to hurt, or even kill, many if he got the chance. In comparison, the Heir of Slytherin was a threat from within Hogwarts. The Heir had proven to only attack lone people, not groups of them. Gathering in a larger crowd was more effective to protect the students from the Heir. The feasts in the Great Hall were a way of keeping an eye on all students, both for the sake of their safety and to discourage the culprit from acting. With the students’ safety in mind, the Headmaster and the staff had come to the conclusion that they were the safest within their common rooms, which required passwords to access in the first place. Students were encouraged to whisper the passwords as subtly as possible to avoid any unwanted listeners from hearing them. Further teachers spent quite a bit of their time accompanying students back and forth between their common rooms and other places.

Nott had migrated his mattress into Harry and Malfoy’s dormitory for the winter break. He said that he didn’t mind having his dormitory for himself but that it would be far more fun to stay up late and talk to his friends rather than be king of an empty room. His fellow Slytherins didn’t mind his intrusion in the least. 

After sleepily saying goodbye to Malfoy, Harry went back to sleep, only to later wake up to Nott lightly shaking him from down on the floor where his mattress was located. “Good morning, Lup-ling.” The boy tried to sound energetic but mostly came off as sleepy. 

“Good morning, Nott-ling.” Harry fumbled for his glasses before he managed to position himself in a good way so that he could see the other. 

“Is today present day or is that tomorrow?” The sleepy boy grinned up at him. His eyes were gleaming up at the other, despite the early hour. 

“It’s tomorrow, but there is a small feast today nonetheless.” Harry rested his head in his hand, thinking about how Nott was the only boy who was still around his height, everyone else was growing taller than him, but Nott was still about the same height. 

“Damnit. I was excited to see you open my present.” He snickered at Harry. “It’s completely safe, I promise.” 

“I’m not sure your promises are worth all that much.” Harry laughed in return. “Yet I’m excited to have you open my present as well.” 

Nott grinned at him, looking infinitely pleased over being distrusted. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry found himself brave enough to ask a question which had been softly poisoning his mind in regards to Nott. 

The boy looked up at him with his honest, brown eyes which seemed incapable of lying. “Uh, sure?” 

Harry hesitated, weighing the words over in his mind. “If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to, but I was wondering if there is a reason as to why you are staying at Hogwarts over the Holidays?” 

Nott’s mischievous smile froze on his lips, making for a crude mockery of his usual expression. He looked to the side, chewing on his lower lip as he thought about what answer he wanted to give. “Can you keep my answer a secret? You’ve continuously done it for Malfoy, so could you please not tell anyone? Not Malfoy, not your dad, not anyone?” He looked more serious than the boy had ever seen him. 

“I promise to keep it a secret.” Harry spoke, feeling somewhat nervous to ask something which was clearly that personal to the boy. 

Nott hesitated for a bit longer, staring up at the ceiling above him as he more than likely reorganised his thoughts to find a way to communicate his secret. “My old man is a Death Eater.” He stated, causing Harry’s heart to drop in his chest. 

It felt impossible to imagine someone as happy and cheery as Nott being the son of a supporter of the Dark Lord. Nott had never shown the slightest bit interest in politics or discussions about blood. 

“The dung beetle might even have… No, it… Mn.” He stopped speaking before trying once more, slowly trying to confide his secret to Harry. “I’m pretty sure that he is the reason I can see thestrals. He was locked up in Azkaban for his crimes, and I was living with my grandma and grandpa. His parents. They aren’t Death Eaters, by the way. He was released last year, coming back home to… me. I don’t want anything to do with him. He says that he has changed, he says that he had learnt, he says that he is sorry. He disgusts me!” The last words were forceful, and accidentally filled with magic. The words caused every candle in the room to burst out in flames. 

Harry carefully slid out of his own bed to sit down next to Nott. He didn’t touch him as he knew that Nott wasn’t really someone who wanted to be touched when he was upset. The other boy’s breaths were heavy and his gaze full of hate and misery. He rolled over to hide his expression from Harry, curling together. 

“Grandma and Grandpa are old… They are trying to help their son, without thinking of me. That old geezer is just there, he says that he is looking for a job but he mostly sits around, not really doing anything. He doesn’t drink or anything like that, just… sits. It doesn’t feel like he’s really there, like… the thing which came back from Azkaban is just a shell of the violent bastard I used to fear. Every now and then, he’ll cry, and ask for forgiveness. Or he will try to get better by pretending to be interested in me. The prick can’t even get my name right.” The boy scoffed, hiding his sadness behind anger and contempt. “You’re lucky to have such a great dad, Harry. I wish he could adopt me too so I wouldn’t have to deal with mine.” 

Harry had never expected to feel guilty for being happy with his family. It was very strange to hear Nott speak of his uncomfortable circumstances and then joke about wanting to join Harry and Remus in their family. It wasn’t exactly realistic and he knew that the other boy was joking, yet the whole scenario made Harry feel guilty and at a loss for words. “I’m… sorry.” He mumbled. 

Nott glanced over his shoulder, thus understanding that his words hadn’t been fair to his friend. “Oh, uh… No, I mean…” He rolled over and sat up. “I didn’t mean to impose. Sorry.”

“I… Yeah.” Harry didn’t manage to think of anything better to say as he returned the apology with stumbling excuses of words. 

Nott seemed to understand well that Harry was uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. I don’t want your dad to adopt me too, and I’m sorry that I pushed that on you. My grandparents aren’t dead yet, I’m going to be fine. I just don’t want to deal with the old man, so if I can stay away, I’m happy. I really like Hogwarts, I’m not sad here.” 

“I… Did ask. I wasn’t ready for the last part.” Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I’m… sorry too.” 

The two boys avoided to look at one another, until Nott carefully scooted over and gave Harry a hug. He returned it, feeling some of his anxiety go away as he squeezed the other back, feeling his unfamiliar scent which was rich with metal and oil. It was not strong enough to be unpleasant, but enough there that Harry noticed. 

“Wanna stuff your face with breakfast and forget all our troubles?” Nott joked, letting go of Harry. 

“That sounds perfect.” Harry smiled back at him, feeling somewhat shaky but at least getting better. 

The two of them exited the dormitories still wearing pajamas, and wearing warm slippers to protect themselves from the cold of the floor. They sat down by the table together, it was a little tense at first but the more time passed, the more they could both relax and have fun once more. After a few minutes by the breakfast table, both of them managed to forget the uncomfortableness and enjoy themselves. 

The door to the dormitories opened again. Flint entered the common room, followed by Wood whose short hair was in a complete mess. His Gryffindor robes looked more than strange in the Slytherin space yet Harry thought that it added some festivity to the otherwise green clad room. All things considered, green and red did look good together, as did Flint and Wood. 

“Morning, chickens.” Flint sat down opposite of the two third years, as they were sitting by the center of the table. The Quidditch captain seemed to want access to all the food which was in the center as well. “Where is my Seeker hiding out?” 

“We ate him.” Nott responded quickly, causing Harry to snort and shake his head.

“He is visiting his parents for the day, he will be back tomorrow. Good morning, Mr. Wood.” Harry smiled at the teenager as he took a seat next to his boyfriend, sleepily filling a cup with tea. 

Wood shuddered. “Mr. Wood is my dad. Call me Wood, Captain or Oliver, no mister needed.”

Flint snorted, causing his boyfriend to turn very red. Judging by the noises and movements, the Gryffindor captain might have kicked the Slytherin captain. The older teenager just laughed before grabbing a piece of toast upon which he began spreading marmalade. 

“What are you up to today, kids?” Flint bit into his bread, looking over at the two younger students. 

“Hermione and Neville are coming over after breakfast, we were thinking of spending most of the day here, playing games, reading, just spending time together.” Harry summarised. “I have some things left on a present of mine, so I’ll be working on that.” 

“Are you making something?” Wood leaned forward to grab a pastry, although he was clearly focusing on Harry as he spoke, evidently interested. 

“I knit. I am a knitter.” Harry smiled at him. “I’m trying to finish one more pair of socks, I’ve already made a few, it’s getting rather easy by now. My speed has increased significantly.” 

“You sound like you’re talking about Quidditch.” Wood looked happier as he identified some manner of possible connections which he shared with the young Slytherin student. 

“I do?” Harry laughed nervously as he picked at his bacon and beans. Anyone who knew him was very aware that he didn’t enjoy Quidditch, especially not after he once more tried to attend a game and it was visited by both Dementors and Sirius Black. Harry felt certain that he truly had given it continuous tries but had now reached the conclusion that he would stay away from Quidditch. It wasn't the game's fault per say, but he didn't have an interest to begin with, and was starting to have very negative associations with it.

“Yeah, have you ever thought of playing? I think that Marcus would-” 

“He’s really not interested.” Wood’s boyfriend assisted Harry in objecting to the practically stranger’s inquiries about the boy’s general level of passion for the brutal game which Wood enjoyed so much. “Not everyone wants to play Quidditch for the rest of their lives.” 

“Well, I do.” Wood all but huffed, his passion visible in his gaze as he continued speaking. “After this year, I’m going to attend a school of higher learning which will help me get into competitive Quidditch.”

“Nothing truly beats you in competitiveness already, captain.” Flint calmly informed him, smiling at his partner. 

“You are just trying to sound high and mighty, you are equally passionate to me.” The younger teenager beamed at the other, his expression both excited and challenging. If he was in any way embarrassed about being addressed as captain, he didn't show it. Maybe he even liked it. “Although I’m not going to let my final Quidditch victory slip away from me, I will win the Cup if it so-” 

Flint showed for the other teenager to quiet down, as he was starting to become a little too passionate, which made him loud. Some people were already looking at him with displeased looks on their faces. “I’m not about to hand over victory to you, but do we really have to be all… dramatic rivals on one another while eating breakfast? We’ll have plenty of time to throw insults at the field later today.” 

“You’re going out playing Quidditch in the snow?” Nott looked at them with a doubtful expression. It was December after all and to try and play Quidditch in the snow was not exactly a common practice. 

“Extreme circumstances make you stronger!” Wood called, causing people to give him displeased looks once more. Some older student muttered to Flint that he should muzzle his dog so they didn’t have to deal with his barking. Flint gave the student a grin back, telling her that he would think about getting a muzzle. Wood ended up lost in a passionate ramble which nobody paid a lot of attention to, about how Quidditch was war and only the strong survived on a battlefield. 

Hermione and Neville arrived in the Slytherin common room later that day, bringing a Muggle game which Hermione called Monopoly. She told them that she had asked her parents to send it to her, and was happy that it had arrived before Christmas Day, as she called it, so that they could play it together. They all quickly learnt that Hermione was really good at the game, but that Nott was a great learner. He caught up with her in the second half of the game. She won, but he was close. Neville and Harry were quickly reduced to background players in their battle for monopoly. The game started over, with Harry rejecting to join in favor of finishing up his last present, thus opting to knit while Hermione and Nott engaged in their second battle, while Neville was bankrupted close to within ten minutes of the game. 

Hermione ended up winning the game, mostly due to her awareness of Muggle currency. Nott groaned, complaining that his hotels weren’t hotelling enough. Nobody really knew what he meant by that, but it sounded surprisingly logical so they didn’t question him. 

All in all, they had a fun day, enjoying themselves with what they had. Remus came to visit them, bringing some of a lava cake which he had made the day before. There was not a lot of cake left, as it was rather small and somebody had clearly eaten from it earlier. The man had brought fruit with him to make it a more proper snack for the children than leaving them with just chocolate. Harry was talked into eating more fruit as well, despite him actually just wanting chocolate. The man stayed for a little longer, ending up becoming a victim in Nott and Hermione’s battle for monopoly, where he and Neville were both bankrupted comparatively early in the game. 

It was strange to not have Malfoy in the dormitory with them. Nott was fun to speak with, but he wasn’t Harry’s best friend and the two of them had some hurdles in communication. They weren’t big hurdles, as the simple reality was that they didn’t know each other well enough to not step on one another’s toes. Harry was probably more mature than the other boy, and enjoyed conversations with more analytic value, while Nott had more fun being spontaneous and talking about whatever came to his mind without finding any amusement in analysing or overthinking details.

Malfoy returned after breakfast the day of the twenty fifth. Harry could tell that something was wrong just by looking at the boy’s face. Remus seemed aware of the boy’s state of mind as well. Harry had never been able to hide sadness from his dad, he knew that Malfoy stood no chance of hiding his sadness from the werewolf. 

The blonde mage found Harry, Neville, Hermione and Nott playing a Muggle card game which Hermione was trying to teach them. Once again, she and Nott were having a fierce battle, while the other two boys were more or less outclassed. Malfoy carefully approached them, causing Harry to excuse himself, hand his cards to Neville, and meet his friend halfway. Malfoy half fell, half ran into Harry’s arms, hugging him tightly. The son of a werewolf thought that he might start to cry there and then, yet somehow, the boy managed to remain in control over his emotions. 

“Do you need to talk?” He whispered, prompting the blonde mage to nod. 

The two of them walked towards their dormitory. Their friends did notice but they knew well that Malfoy didn’t enjoy being emotional, yet they also understood that he definitely needed to be emotional at that moment. The only person he could truly relax around in terms of allowing himself to feel was Harry. This was no secret, thus, their friends respected Malfoy’s need for a single person who he trusted to support him through whatever it was that was troubling him. 

Harry closed the door to their dormitory, turning towards his friend who had walked straight over to Harry’s bed upon which he sat down. Harry had never seen him reject his own bed before, he took it as a sign that his friend was rather badly off. 

The son of a werewolf came to sit down next to the boy, resulting in Malfoy wrapping his arms around him and all but tumble them over so that he could hug him better. He even forgot his own shoes on in the process. 

“Just let me… stay like this for a bit.” The taller boy mumbled against Harry’s shoulder. “I just need to do that thing you do and hide for a little.” 

Harry nodded in response, before realising that the other couldn’t see him. “I’ll be here when you can talk.” He assured him, trying to relax as he let the other’s sharp breaths calm down. “Do you mind if I talk? Just to keep myself distracted, you don’t have to answer?”

“No, do what you want, as long as you don’t move me.” Malfoy’s voice was almost inaudible as he responded. 

Thus, Harry began telling him the story of how Hermione and Nott fought a vicious battle against one another for the sake of winning in a Muggle board game. Malfoy seemed to become less tense throughout the story until he felt almost relaxed against the son of a werewolf’s chest. 

Finally, the blonde mage rolled over, looking up at the ceiling where he laid alongside Harry, simply staring for close to a minute in silence. When he did speak, his words were slow, as if it was hard for him to force them to exist outside his mind. “I had a fight with my father. A… rather bad fight. I never really thought that I could possibly think differently from the man I’ve always admired. Yet now… It is like I do not even know him. It is as if he has become a different person. I see these behaviors which he is displaying, the faulty logic he is using, the way he tries to twist people’s words into things they never meant them to mean… All for his own satisfaction? All to protect himself? If he hadn’t started that behavior in the first place, there would be no need to hide so many things!” He groaned and hid his face, trying to take a few deep breaths. 

“I asked him about that hippogriff, why he so badly wanted it to be killed while there truly was no need to harm it in the first place. He has proven that the position of teacher wasn’t something which should have been granted to Hagrid. The man has been reviewed and sent to learn about how to teach properly. The students are safe with a competent teacher. Despite all this, he is obsessed with murdering that poor animal which truly wasn’t at fault for what happened to me. You know what he answered?” He turned towards Harry, giving him a look of defiance and misery. 

“No…?” Harry responded carefully, not wanting to answer the wrong thing. He didn’t have to worry, as his friend wasn’t truly expecting an answer. 

“Principles.” Malfoy spat out the words as if it had been poisoning his tongue and he couldn’t wait to remove it from where it was festering. “He tries to pretend that it is about saving the students from a neglectful, dangerous teachers. Then he pretends that he simply wants the animal removed from the care of that man, then he finally comes around to what it is really about: I was hurt and for the sake of the honor of the name Malfoy, the beast must be killed. Principles.” He spit the word out again. Harry remained silent, letting the boy speak his mind uninterrupted. 

“Somehow, while trying to tell him that I didn’t want the hippogriff to be killed for the sake of my own honor, we ended up arguing about… well, you.” Malfoy glanced at him before quickly looking away, sighing deeply. 

Harry didn’t know what to do, thus, he slowly reached out to take the other’s hand, which the boy accepted, holding onto so fiercely that it almost hurt. 

“He… truly did… I mean, he… was responsible for the incident last year. With Tom Riddle’s diary.” The blonde mage’s sentences suffered as he tried to confess to what his father had admitted to be guilty of. 

Harry didn’t know what to think or feel about the revelation of the man’s crime. On one hand, Harry had accepted that it was Lucius Malfoy’s fault, while on the other hand, he had always hoped that it wasn’t. He wanted to believe that Malfoy’s father was better than setting a murder plot in motion for the sake of killing children whose blood he deemed to be less than his own or that or his child. He squeezed his friend’s hand tighter, unable to think of another course of action which he could take at that moment. The squeeze was welcomed with a squeeze in return. 

“I… It seemed that he was doing it for some grandiose reason of the future. He was speaking like some mad Pureblood fanatic, the person which I’ve never believed him to be. People have always accused him of being like it, and I have always defended our beliefs on logical grounds that it only applied to us. I… thought there was so much more to it than my father simply feeling a superiority by birth, yet for every word we exchanged, he came closer and closer to Pureblood fanaticism, until he stopped making arguments and claimed that his words were true, just because.” 

“When I continued to argue, he began turning his wrath upon you.” Malfoy was struggling to speak once more. “He said that it was your fault that I was thinking this way, that I had stopped believing in him and his teachings. All because of Harry Potter, who doesn’t even exist! He complained about me wearing these cufflinks,” he held his hand up, the vague light from around them reflecting in the metal which shaped the little silver snake. “Saying they were below me, claiming that they were evidence that you were filling my head with the weak man’s idea of equality. Poisoning me with a weak man’s idea of values. It was something about how the strong and righteous need to rule as the weak don't know what is good for them, or the world. Whatever made him strong? Whatever made him just? He is trying to murder an animal for the sake of principles, how it that strong or just! What is it that he thinks he knows that gives him the right to try and kill children for the sake of some imaginary, oh so certain, future!” The voice which had started as a whisper steadily rose in strength until his words erupted with anger, this anger forming in a scream. 

Malfoy’s anger caused him to breathe hard and fast, coming to a halt with a face which heated with anger and betrayal. He realised that he was getting far too passionate, thus, he hid behind his arm, a low whimper escaping his lips. Harry didn’t know what to do any more now than he did a few minutes ago. He tried to not think, he tried his best to only listen. 

“Mother intervened. She was able to make us stop fighting but her only comment was in regards to how we should not be fighting. After that, she took me aside and urged me to forgive him because he is my father. I wasn’t satisfied with this, demanding to know why I should stand for or be comfortable with his illogical, straight up stupid ideas and ideals, which he was trying to force upon me. She yielded and told me that my father was struggling a lot with accepting what he had done, especially since it has almost cost him the life of his son. She said that he was having trouble sleeping, and that he was ridden by guilt. Apparently, he regrets all that he did, and his way of coping with it is trying to keep me safe, where he failed last year. His way of keeping me safe is to try and remove me from you. It's to kill the hippogriff for some self satisfaction because he endangered my life last year. She wants me to forgive him because he's struggling with it.” Malfoy stopped to draw a deeper breath, still hiding from the world by means of keeping his arm over his face. 

“It rather makes me feel all the more ill.” Malfoy’s next words seemed awfully small. “Instead of improving, instead of admitting to being wrong or confessing to his mistakes, he tries to protect me from my best friend. He tries to pretend that I would agree with him if I was only removed from you. I feel like… I feel like I’ve grown so much as a person, that I’ve learnt so much. I guess I liked myself more when I was younger and thought the world was centered on me, sure, but when I look back at that person, I only feel embarrassed for him. I want to be better than that, I want to be more than just some bully in someone else’s story. Father is trying to make me into an isolated, hateful, self serving image of himself. If I hadn’t met you, that is probably what I would want to be. However, I don’t want that anymore. I don’t even know what I want to be but... not that. Not like him. Not… like them.” Harry didn’t know who they were, but he felt uncomfortably certain that Malfoy might be talking about the Death Eaters. 

Malfoy rolled over again, ending up on Harry’s shoulder. He sighed, closing his eyes as his arm came to rest over the other boy’s chest, half hugging, half limp. Harry caught a glimpse of tears in his eyelashes, yet the boy’s voice wasn’t faltering, not yet. 

“I’m proud of you.” Harry raised a hand to play with the boy’s hair, finally finding the perfect words to soothe his friend. He was proud of him for many reasons and to list them all wasn’t really possible at that moment. “I know that it’s hard, I know that you shouldn’t be hearing it from just me but… I’m so proud of you. I don’t think that hate is the solution, and I agree that your dad shouldn’t be behaving this way if he truly wants forgiveness from you.” He continued to absently play with his hair, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t help you with what to do, but I think that you might want to talk to Professor Snape or my dad. Take the help of adults who know you but also know your parents, let them assist you with what to do.” 

Malfoy nodded, snuggling a little closer to Harry. “I… think you are right. This might really be too much for me to handle on my own. Maybe Professor Snape can help me.” The boy seemed absolutely exhausted from everything which he had talked about, so much so that he almost seemed to be falling asleep on Harry’s shoulder now when the emotions had been released from within him. “Are you really proud of me?” The blonde mage mumbled sleepily, nudging Harry with his cold nose. It was the last coherent thing which the boy said before promptly falling asleep on Harry’s shoulder. 

“So proud.” Harry promised his sleeping friend. He supposed that he might as well take a nap also, as he was not moving anytime soon from the clingy former Pureblood supremacist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **School Uniforms**  
>  This is a good a place as any to mention that our lore does not have gendered school uniforms. While the tie and robes, as well as the dress shirt and pullover are mandatory, students get to decide whatever they desire to wear on their legs as long as it is within the restrictions of modesty. 
> 
> A quick reminder that even in the canon, Rowling often described the wizarding society as that of wearing traditional wizard robes, meaning that the idea of a culture where skirts are strictly feminine coded and trousers are generally male coded would be entirely unnecessary and not at all as likely to occur. Most wizards have not worn trousers historically, it is much more of a Muggle fashion item to begin with.


	16. Chapter 15 - In which Severus Snape celebrates the Holidays for the first time in ten years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My good Professors,” the old wizard began. “It seems that you have gained a visitor.” He raised his hand, pointing up towards the ceiling. 
> 
> Remus and Professor Snape looked up, only to find the mistletoe hanging above them like a triumphant little sprite, ready to cause mischief. Nott looked more than a little excited over where his mistletoe had ended up, he even leaned forward, curious to see what would happen next. Harry and his friends collectively held their breaths, watching the mistletoe bobble up and down like a lure in water. 

“Harry, wake up.” 

The son of a werewolf woke up as his dad gently shook him and Malfoy awake. Next to Harry, the blonde boy was already sitting up, sleepily blinking at the world with a somewhat confused expression on his face. Harry looked up to see his dad, who was looking down at him with a gentle expression. Harry had fallen asleep with his glasses on, which wasn't much of a problem as he had been sleeping on his back.

“Good morning.” Remus tried not to chuckle as he stood back up, giving his sleepy child some space so that he could wake up properly. “The others want to start opening their presents, I was asked to come get you.” 

“I… didn’t mean to fall asleep…” Malfoy mumbled, looking around for something, for some reason. “I have to change clothes before I could be claimed to be presentable.” He stood up, walked over to his wardrobe and began searching for a fitting outfit for the evening. 

“We will be waiting for you outside. You might want to wash your face before you join us.” He gently ruffled his son’s hair before leaving. 

“Mhn… I will…” Harry yawned, speaking to the closed door as he got up and more or less wobbled into the bathroom to wash his face and have some water. 

When he returned, Malfoy had gotten dressed in a looser green shirt, tucked into his pants, but still loose enough to create a silhouette which Harry recognised to be medieval. He was probably wrong about it though, as he didn’t know a lot about fashion throughout history. Harry couldn’t tell if he was wearing the same trousers or not, but he knew for a certain that he had never seen his friend wear colors before. He stopped before smiling at him. “I didn’t know you owned anything that wasn’t black or white.” 

“Well, I… I did manage to find something in the back of my closet. I’m glad it fits me better now than it did when I first got it.” Malfoy seemed somewhat insecure about the piece of clothing, he was studying himself in the mirror, frowning at his reflection. 

“It looks really good on you.” Harry assured him before grabbing his friend’s hand, pulling him towards the door. “Don’t worry.” 

Malfoy came willingly, giving his friend a smile as Harry's compliment had eased his worries. “I do look good in green, you are right.” 

The two of them exited their dormitory to enter a lively and warm common room. There weren’t a lot of people in it, but there were enough to make it feel surprisingly full compared to last year. Hermione, Neville and Nott were once more engaged in playing card games, judging by the look on Nott’s face, he was finally winning. They were playing in front of the fireplace, hiding away from the alluring presents on the other side of the room. Flint and Wood had snuggled up on a couch in front of the other fireplace in the room, talking about something in subtle voices, with Wood laying on top of Flint. They seemed to be happy in their own little corner. 

In front of the fireplace where their friends were sitting were two couches. Upon one sat Albus Dumbledore himself, drinking from a decorated cup while looking ever so relaxed. It should have been strange to see the Headmaster himself in the Slytherin common room, yet he somehow became less strange the more one looked upon him. The man was dressed all in elaborate clothing, all in red, as was his Holiday custom. Next to him lay a little sack, which Harry found quite confusing. 

On the other couch sat Remus and Professor Snape. They did not sit far away from one another, at a respectable distance, but next to one another, having a conversation without seeming the least bothered by one another. Harry couldn’t quite remember ever seeing his dad so calm and happy next to another person. It seemed that he had finally managed to convince the man to be his friend. Professor Snape didn’t quite look displeased, yet he didn’t look entirely relaxed either. The man seemed to be very aware that nobody was expecting him to be there, and that nobody quite knew what to make of him being there, not even the Potions Master himself. However, he seemed to find comfort in the Headmaster being there as well, thus not making him the only strange presence. 

There were more people in the common room as well, but they seemed to have isolated themselves from the teachers, as they didn’t quite know what to think about their presence. Nobody seemed to mind, but it was somewhat awkward to spend the Holidays with three adults who they only knew as teachers, whereas they didn’t quite know the Headmaster as anything else than an authority figure. 

There were a few things floating about in the common room, some colorful tree decorations which wobbled up and down above their heads, alongside some snakes of colorful tinsel, moving through the air like lazy fish in an aquarium. Alongside these objects was a single mistletoe, which was floating about in the air a little lower and a little more clumsily than the others objects. It was easy to reach the conclusion that whoever had enchanted the mistletoe was not the same person who enchanted the other items. 

“There you are.” Neville noticed Harry and Malfoy first as they approached. “I like your shirt, Malfoy.” He continued, assisting the insecure boy in restoring his confidence. 

“Thank you.” Malfoy smiled, looking pleased with himself as he sat down next to Hermione on the warm carpet. 

Both Neville and Hermione were dressed in big sweaters to keep them from the cold, his was a mix of brown, yellow and red, woven into an intricate pattern. Hers was a soft brown, the high collar protecting her from the cold. She also wore a pair of beige trousers which were a little too big on her, while Neville was wearing a set of brown trousers. Nott was still wearing his pajamas, yet he had pulled his morning robes thrown over them. Harry was dressed in a beige dress shirt with a grey cardigan over, his trousers in between grey and brown. Only Malfoy truly looked collected, although Neville was the most color coordinated. 

“Read ‘em and weep, Granger!” Nott slammed his hand of cards down on the carpet, beaming at her. 

“I’m not going to be weeping, but you did win.” She placed her cards down on the carpet, causing the boy to punch the air in victory. The cards were completely unreadable to Harry, but it seemed as if Nott’s cards were somehow superior. 

“Booyah!” Nott cheered at himself, rather loudly. The newly awoken Harry didn’t quite like his friend being noisy, but then again, Nott always was to some degree. The boy seemed to have chosen to forget the discussion about family which he and Harry had the day prior, instead returning to the happy person which most people knew him as. For what it was worth, Harry was happy to see that their exchange of secrets hadn’t affected the boy negatively. 

Nott turned to look around in the room, specifically looking towards the mistletoe. It had settled to hover over Flint and Wood, who seemingly had no problems surrendering to the law of the kiss. Some younger students seemed disgusted by the thing and were constantly running away from it. Nott looked satisfied with himself, leading to Harry concluding that it was likely him who enchanted the mistletoe in the first place. 

“Ready for presents?” Nott turned back to the group, childish excitement gleaming in his eyes. 

Neville looked excited as well as he turned to Harry, Hermione followed his gaze, causing Malfoy to do the same. 

“Why are you looking at me?” Harry raised his hands in a gesture of surprise and surrendered. “I didn’t know I was the assigned leader.”

“Well, you are the voice of reason.” Neville smiled at him. “Is it reasonable to open our presents now?” 

Harry laughed. “Indeed, as the only voice of reason, I’ll ask my dad if we may.” He turned towards the couch upon which his dad and Professor Snape sat, discussing an assignment for the seventh year students. “Dad? I’m sorry to interrupt but would it be alright if we opened our presents now?” 

Remus leaned forward to look at his son and the rest of the children with a gentle smile on his face. “Before that, I believe the Headmaster wanted to give you his presents.” 

The students all looked very surprised as Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, bringing his sack with him. He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of everyone in the room, who glanced over towards him. Even the floating mistletoe reacted to his noise, flying over to him to hover above his head. The old man chuckled as he brought one of his hands up and gave himself a light kiss on the back of it. He then proceeded to speak. 

“This year, all students who have decided to stay at Hogwarts will be receiving a small gift from the school. You are all hard working students, and the school is very happy to have you. If you do not consider yourself hard working, you are still students who found yourself more comfortable here than at home, to either sooth your longing, or celebrate this, your second home, I give you these… Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!” The old wizard opened his sack, sending small packages flying all over the room, followed by colorful tails of blue, green, red and golden glitter. A small package flew into every student’s hands, landing in them like tame birds. 

The man looked happier than Harry had ever seen him as the sounds of gratitude, excitement and opening of packages filled the room. Harry and his friends carefully opened theirs, with the exception of Nott who more or less ripped his package open. Everyone found their favorite candy inside their package, and those who didn’t like candy found their preferred snack instead. The son of a werewolf heard someone loudly announce that their friend’s package was filled with dried bananas, much to their dislike and the friend’s happiness. 

Inside his own package, Harry found small pumpkin shaped chocolates. Next to them was a little tag which read ‘with actual pumpkin flavored chocolate.’ Malfoy had received a package of lemon candy, Hermione a package of candy canes, Neville found a collection of sugar quills while Nott cheered over his chewable licorice cogs. The group thanked the old wizard, who sat down upon the couch once more, seeming ever so satisfied with himself. 

“Thank you, Santa.” Hermione whispered under her breath, holding on to the candy cane package with a look of happiness and nostalgia. The Headmaster seemed to have heard her, as his smile turned a little wider. 

Professor Dumbledore turned towards the other two teachers. Remus seemed very amused by his stunt, smiling at the man as if he had experienced something nostalgic. Professor Snape seemed somewhat less amused by the display, yet did not appear to be displeased. 

“My good Professors,” the old wizard began. “It seems that you have gained a visitor.” He raised his hand, pointing up towards the ceiling. 

Remus and Professor Snape looked up, only to find the mistletoe hanging above them like a triumphant little sprite, ready to cause mischief. Nott looked more than a little excited over where his mistletoe had ended up, he even leaned forward, curious to see what would happen next. Harry and his friends collectively held their breaths, watching the mistletoe bobble up and down like a lure in water. 

The werewolf’s cheeks turned red before he glanced to the side. Above them, the mistletoe caught fire, burning to ashes in the air without a stray particle of soot escaping down onto the two men. The Potions Professor crossed his legs, leaning back on the couch with a displeased expression. 

“Nooooo.” Nott whispered to Neville, who happened to sit the closest to him. 

“I told you he’d never agree to it.” Neville whispered back. 

Remus chuckled into his hand, his cheeks still red yet he no longer seemed embarrassed. “I don’t think it was necessary to set it on fire.” Professor Snape only huffed in return as Remus returned his attention to the children. “Your presents are still under the tree, are they not? Go and get them and come back again.” He encouraged, sending the children hurrying to find their packages. 

Harry was surprised to learn that he had gotten quite the strange package, alongside the ones he was suspecting that he would be getting. He had received one from Hermione and Neville, who had gone together to buy him something. One from Malfoy, one from Nott and one from Remus. Then there was the large one. It was shaped like some manner of long stick, yet it was clear in Malfoy's reaction that he recognised the package. Maybe not so much the package as he recognised the shape of it. Still, he kept silent, allowing Harry to open it himself. 

The little group took turns opening their presents. Hermione got a book she had been talking about wanting from Harry, Neville and Malfoy who had gone together to buy it for her. She was overjoyed to find the thick volume in the wrapping paper, and had to be reminded that they still had more packages to open before she could start reading. Neville received a broom care package from Malfoy, and a book on Herbology from Harry and Hermione which he had wished for. Nott received a set of cogwheels and parts for his inventions from Harry and Malfoy, and a book about magic law and legislations from his family. He promptly gave it away to Hermione in exchange for one of her candy canes. 

Malfoy’s present from Hermione and Neville was a small bottle of broom oil, while he got his long desired socks from Harry. They were the same color as their House color, and almost fit in color with the boy’s shirt. He happily slid the socks on, concluding that they were perfect for his needs, despite being unable to put his feet back into his slim shoes. Nott had made him a small jumping toy, in the shape of a curled up snake. By turning the lever, the gears tensed, allowing the snake to bounce. Malfoy accepted the present with a somewhat confused expression on his face, yet his gratitude seemed sincere. He had one more package which he didn’t know who it was from, yet upon opening it, he found a small note from Molly Weasley, alongside a green knitted scarf with an elaborate ‘D.M’ embroidered into it. For a second, the boy seemed a little bothered and confused by getting a gift from the Weasleys, he stared at the note for quite a few seconds. At last, a weak smile spread over his lips, as he pocketed the note. 

Harry immediately asked to see the scarf, as he had never seen knitting that tight and craftily shaped into a scarf. How her simple lines could be that much better than his own, the boy didn’t know, yet he adored the craftsmanship. Malfoy only got him to surrender the scarf by pointing out that he likely had one of his own waiting in the crude, brown package which looked just like Malfoy’s. Harry hadn't even noticed that package until now. 

The first package Harry opened was the one from Molly Weasley, in which he found a green scarf with the initials ‘H.L’ embroidered into the green with a silver thread. He excitedly began to examine it, pulling slightly on the rows to check if they would give at all. The rows did not move whatsoever to the boy’s excitement. The note which both of them had received contained an undescriptive thank you and a wish for a good holiday, signed by Molly Weasley. Harry put his scarf on, proud to be wearing such a professional piece of knitting art. 

After having heard how the Weasley family had treated his name and identity, it was more than a little touching for Harry to find that the mother of the family had put his name on the scarf properly. 

Next, Harry opened his present from Neville and Hermione, who had gotten together to buy him a book filled with easy knit stitch patterns. He received a similar toy as his friend had from Nott, only that the one he received was a crude wolf, rather than a snake. Nott pointed out that it was a jumping werewolf, since Harry was so passionate about them. Remus tried very hard to not pay any attention to the item. The strange little metal wolf made Harry wonder if it was what a werewolf really looked like, yet he realised that now wasn’t the right time to think about it. 

From Malfoy, Harry got the equivalent of an entire yarn basket, containing every primary color, their color counterparts, and then some black, white as well as silver and gold balls of yarn. Harry thought it was way too much yarn until Malfoy told him how little the rolls actually cost. He felt less overwhelmed by them then. From Remus, he received some more yarn, as well as a collection of differently sized needles. To this, he was also given a beginners book of knitting which walked the reader through the different uses of the different needles, which Harry found himself very excited about. He thought that the biggest ones, which were of course not sharp in the least, looked very exciting to try out. 

There was only one package left for Harry to open, the strange, large one which nobody knew who it came from. Remus seemed uncomfortable as even the Headmaster himself admitted to not having sent it. 

“Should I… really open it?” Harry looked to his dad and then at the package. “I’m not sure I…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence for his dad to agree. 

“No you should probably not open it. If you will allow me to investigate it for you, that would ease my worries greatly.” His son nodded, allowing his dad to pick up the package and take it away from the children. He was beginning to head towards the exit to the common room when he was stopped by the blonde mage.

“Professor Lupin?” Malfoy called after him, leaning forward so that he could still see the man. “I think… Judging from that shape, I think that there is a broom inside that package.” 

Remus looked towards Professor Snape, who appeared as collected as always, yet stood up in what was almost a hurried action. The Potions Master was by the werewolf’s side so quickly it seemed that he might have apparated to his side. 

“I shall assist you in examining the object.” The Potions Professor spoke to the werewolf, who gave him a thankful and relieved look. 

“That is most welcomed. We will return later, excuse us.” Remus spoke to the room before exiting alongside the other man. 

They left so coordinately that it seemed their exit had almost been planned, or that they had expected to have to leave early. As Harry was confident that his dad wasn’t eager to leave him, it seemed to him that the two Professors had anticipated the possibility that something unwelcome had been sent to the werewolf’s son.

Harry felt uncomfortable as he saw his dad leave the common room. He didn’t so much care about the present, and it wasn’t a problem inherently that the man left, he simply felt uncomfortable with the idea that the man might be hurt from whatever was in the package, should it be dangerous. It felt to him that it would be his fault if something happened to the two Professors, and them leaving made him feel as if they were heading towards a trap. 

“Oh.” Professor Dumbledore’s cheerful voice distracted Harry, who turned towards him. The old wizard had opened his package from Harry and was holding up a pair of light blue socks. Harry had worked very hard on those socks, managing to create little stars on them as well. Those stars were more balls of white than they were anything resembling a star, yet the Headmaster seemed happy nonetheless. The blue of the socks clashed horribly with his red attire, yet he began to pull them on without hesitation. “Excellent craftsmanship, Mr. Lupin. These are just what I need to make it through this winter.” He hummed happily as he put his shoes back on again. 

“You’re welcome, Professor.” Harry tried to sound happy, but it came off as somewhat disingenuous. 

The old wizard smiled back at the son of a werewolf. “Your father will be back very soon to open his own package. You can trust in Professor Snape, he has never let me down. While we wait, how about I tell you a Christmas story?” 

“A what story?” Nott frowned at the man, leaning his head to the side like a confused puppy. 

“Some Muggles celebrate this event called Christmas during December, celebrating the birth of a quite impressive man. However, it has long since become a tradition to meet your friends and family during Christmas, eat good food, and celebrate unity and peace.” The old wizard spoke. “Muggles tell many stories about this idea of Christmas spirit, which brings people together. Why, I know the story of a man called Ebenezer Scrooge…” 

Hermione let out an excited gasp as she moved a little closer, prompting the boys to follow her. They could tell when a story was about to be told to them, at that moment, they were more than happy to have their minds distracted by something other than the possibility that Sirius Black might have sent Harry a dangerous present for the sake of killing him. 

The Headmaster smiled at their willingness to hear his story, thus turning towards them as he began to tell A Christmas Carol to the children. Hermione was the only one who had heard it before, but she seemed more than happy to hear it again. The Headmaster told them of Mr. Scrooge, who after being warned by the ghost of his old partner that his greed would cause him great pain after his time is up, was subsequently visited by three Christmas ghosts. Those ghosts being the Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Soon enough, everyone was so wrapped up with his story that they didn’t realise that they were still waiting for Remus and Professor Snape to return. 

The little group of people continued to listen to Professor Dumbledore’s stories until dinner was served. It was as if the old man had waited all his life for the chance to tell stories to someone, and the four children in front of the fireplace was just the chance he had patiently waited for. Now that he was in his element, the stories flew from his lips, as he used magic to enhance his storytelling with smoky figures. Even Nott, who had a hard time just sitting still and listening during most lessons found himself completely absorbed by the old man’s stories. 

At the end of the story about Scrooge, Neville and Malfoy briefly agreed that it was most likely just regular ghosts messing with the Muggle to teach him the meaning of Christmas spirit.

Dinner came around, people began gathering around the table but Remus and Severus had yet to return. The Headmaster urged the children to the table before he left to retrieve the two Professors. Harry waited with his heart slamming painfully in his chest, unable to envision what he feared but able to recognise the fear for what it was. When the Headmaster returned with the two men, the son of the werewolf got to his feet and ran over to hug his dad tightly. His clinginess caught his dad off guard, yet the man raised his arms and wrapped them around the boy, hugging him closely in return. 

“It’s alright.” Remus promised him, finally prompting Harry to let go. “I’m alright.”

The dinner was just as impressive as last year’s. There was a great variety of food and drinks, allowing everyone to find something which they wanted. Most students happily began to eat without a second thought, enjoying themselves in the warm atmosphere while friendly talk filled the room. It took Harry a little longer to begin to enjoy himself, but as Remus told him and his friends that initially nothing appeared to be wrong with the broom, for it was indeed a broom in the package, the boy began to relax. Further, the Professor informed his child that he and Professor Snape had set up a ritual to examine the item, which would conclusively tell them if it was in any way dangerous. They didn’t expect to learn everything about the broom in a day, but they did expect to reach a conclusion before the second term started. Malfoy inquired about what type of broom it was, yet neither Professor was able to tell him, as it simply seemed like a newer broom to them. 

Dinner became more pleasant after that for Harry, allowing him to enjoy the food and company properly. After a while, all his worries and fear seemed to slip away from him, allowing him to forget all about Sirius Black, the frightening present, and the fact that he was worried about Malfoy and his relationship to his father. During that dinner, where everyone laughed, smiled and talked, everything was good. Even Professor Snape seemed to be having a decent evening, perhaps even relaxing ever so slightly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **Dumbeldore's gifts**  
>  Just a quick note that the man has spent his own money on these gifts, rather than school funding.


	17. Chapter 16 - In which Marcus Flint is forced to accept a gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t want to talk about this now, Severus. Please.” The voice sounded muffled, as if the man was hiding his face in his hands. “Thank you for bringing Harry here safely but…” 
> 
> “You shouldn’t hide from him.” The Potions Master informed Remus. “He does not deserve you hiding from him.”

The winter break continued on, and the moon became full once again. Harry had noticed the usual signs in his dad the day before, yet there was nothing he could really do to help the man in any way. For the first time since Remus began to teach at Hogwarts, they were spending a lot of time around one another, which made the change even more noticable. It felt strange to not be able to be there for his struggling parental figure, and even stranger to try and act like he didn’t want to be around him any extra closer to the full moon, rather than spending time with his friends.

The morning after the December full moon, Harry was waiting for Professor Snape to enter the common room for breakfast. The man usually came early in the morning, grabbed some food on a plate and returned to his own office. Harry wasn’t usually awake that early, but he had made certain to wake up prematurely for the sake of meeting the Potions Master when he came. Before leaving his dormitory, he left a note for Malfoy about going to visit his dad with Professor Snape. 

“Good morning, Professor.” Harry stood up from the chair where he had been sitting by the breakfast table, waiting for the Head of his House. Some other students had already begun eating breakfast, yet Harry hadn’t touched anything with the exception of a glass or water to wake his throat up. 

“You are awake early.” The Professor commented as he approached the breakfast table. “What do you wish of me.” Harry recognised his statement for the demand it was, not the question it was pretending to be. He waved his wand towards the buffé, causing two plates to raise themselves up in the air, whereas they were then filled by food, lifting up upon the plates by means of magic. 

“Well, sir, my dad wasn’t feeling very well yesterday. I believed that he might be getting a cold or the like. I can’t very well go visit him on my own, thus, I was hoping that you’d have the time to take me to him so that I may visit him in his office.” He looked up at the man with pleading eyes, trying to tell him through his heart and soul that he wanted to see his dad after the werewolf transformation, now that he actually could. 

The Potions Master’s lips shifted as if he was wetting them for the purpose of speaking. It was a small movement, yet one which made him seem deep in thought. “Pick a plate for yourself then. I shall bring you with me.”

“You’re already going to see him?” Harry felt himself light up with positive emotions and happiness, the worry he had felt before asking was quickly dispersed. 

“Yes.” The man confirmed as the two plates floated back to him with more food than a single person needed. Harry realised that one of the plates was likely to be for his dad. “Do hurry, I do not have all morning.” 

Harry gathered his preferred breakfast on his plate, adding some extra chocolate flavored food items, with the intent of giving them to his dad when he met him. Together, he and Professor Snape left the Slytherin common room, walking through the empty, cold and dark dungeons which appeared far less comforting than it did during hot summer days. Harry tried very hard to not think of Sirius Black, instead searching for something else to speak about. Luckily, he knew something which he had wanted to talk to the Head of his House about for a while. 

“Professor? I really enjoyed your lesson about Lycanthropy and werewolves. It was very educational, I learnt a lot despite already being well read on the topic.” Harry began with complimenting the man’s lecture. “Yet there is something I’ve been wondering for a long time. If you don’t mind me asking… what does dad look like when he is like that?” The child tried very hard to not speak openly about his dad’s condition, yet he was attempting to ask what the Potions Master had seen when he had seen the night when he was sixteen and had spotted the werewolf, thus figuring out the boy’s, and later man’s, secret. He had glanced around and they were clearly alone, and he had lowered his tone of voice significantly.

The Professor didn’t look at him, instead focusing straight ahead. He was holding his wand in his hand, his gaze attentive and alert, yet not frightened. “I did not see him too clearly.” Professor Snape said as they exited the dungeons and began walking towards the second floor. “Yet it was distinctly… humanoid. Many expect werewolves to be big and furry creatures, or large wolves, yet your father was very human in appearance. I recall thinking that he truly seemed like a person suffering from a blood curse, rather than appearing like a wolf-like beast. He was practically hairless, his limbs long and thin. It didn’t seem like he had a lot of muscle on his bones, yet I’m not certain if that has to do with his own body or if it is the same for all werewolves. I did not see a tail, neither did I see his face so I cannot tell you what his head looked like. Does that satisfy your curiosity?” 

“It does, thank you sir. He won’t let me see him, despite it being perfectly safe.” Harry felt somewhat guilty to have asked the man about something personal about his dad, which the man had been wanting to keep from him. Harry didn’t exactly believe that he had the right to know, it really wasn’t his choice to make in regards to what his dad was comfortable with or not. The good thing to do was probably to leave the topic alone, and yet… Harry had been wondering for years, speaking to the beast through the basement door. He felt like he knew it, felt like he understood it. “Is it… wrong of me to… want to know?” He whispered. 

“Perhaps it wasn’t right for me to tell you what isn’t mine to tell.” The Potions Master agreed. “Yet Remus’ behavior isn’t healthy. He is the only person with Lycanthropy who has the privilege of having taken the Lycanthropy potion every month for over ten years. As his son, you have been with him for a long time, and you speaking to the werewolf has likely led to it recognising your voice. Researchers like me are more than interested to learn more about how the potion has affected him, it might even have had positive effects in terms of his otherwise beastly mindset. However, I digress. He is so very frightened and disgusted with himself that he does not want to know what he looks like, he only knows that he is scared of it. If you know what to expect, it will in theory not be as frightening when you do see it, compared to you having no idea what the werewolf looks like. It would likely do him very good to allow you to see him. He blames himself too much for what he cannot help. You seeing the werewolf might be what he needs to overcome his abnormal self hatred.” 

Harry smiled weakly at the man. “Thank you, sir.” The man did not look at him in return, yet Harry had noticed that he had called his dad Remus, and not Lupin, so that was something positive to think about. As he thought it, the Potions Master let out a weak and somewhat tired sigh. 

They arrived at the door to Remus’ office to find the door locked. Harry felt somewhat discouraged by that, although he understood why it was locked. The Potions Master waved his wand, prompting clicking from inside. The door swung open, showing Harry an untouched office, which showed no signs that a werewolf had visited it. This led him to the conclusion that his dad must have spent the full moon in his sleeping chambers behind the office. 

Professor Snape concluded the same, telling Harry to shut the door as he strode inside, heading for the smaller back room. That door was also locked up, yet the mage easily unlocked it as well. 

“Allow me to check on him first, when the door opens, you are allowed to come inside.” The Potions Professor addressed the boy before sweeping inside, followed by the two plates, before having the door close behind him. 

Harry sighed as he walked over to his dad’s office chair and sat down on it, still holding on to his own breakfast plate. He looked down upon it before picking up a pancake which he began to eat while keeping eye contact with the door. 

He had waited for about ten minutes before the door opened, prompting him to enter his dad’s sleeping chambers. By the time he did, there was not a lot of food left on his plate. 

The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor’s room was dark and warm. Harry left the door wide open to allow some air in. It was a small room which only fit a bed and a small bedside table, alongside a wardrobe which Harry assumed to be boggart free. Remus was sitting upon his bed, dressed in a pajama shirt which Harry had often seen him wear at home, the man's legs were hidden under the blanket. He looked ruffled, tired and not entirely comfortable with being seen by someone yet. Like a guilty dog, Remus avoided Harry’s eyes as he came inside the room. Other than his dad in his bed, Harry noticed that the socks which he made for him had been placed upon the bed, like some manner of support item. Harry wondered if they had ended up there by accident or if the werewolf had wanted to play with them. Canines like to play with socks after all, or at least so Harry thought. 

“Good morning, dad.” The boy put the plate on the nightstand before reaching out and hugged his dad. The man wasn’t in any way hurt, he only appeared tired and ruffled, yet he felt completely normal to hug. 

Remus trembled slightly at the touch, as if he was almost frightened by it, yet he hugged his son back. “Good morning… I’m sorry, I feel a little under the weather today.” He mumbled before letting his son go. “What are you doing here so early, Harry?” He tried to smile, yet it came off as forced, almost pained. 

Harry turned to pick up a chocolate pastry and hand it to his dad, which Remus accepted and slowly took a bite of. The boy noticed his dad’s hand shaking as he ate. “I haven’t had the chance to see you at all these days, I’ve been worried so I asked Professor Snape to help me see you. How are you feeling?” 

“Rough.” The man laughed softly but with little happiness. He continued to eat his chocolate pastry, spilling some crumbs onto the bed, yet he didn’t even notice. “I’ll be fine but… I do feel rather exhausted this morning.” 

“It’s a good thing that you don’t have to go to work then.” Harry sat down on the bed, smiling at his dad. “Do you want a cup of tea? I know where everything is, I can make some for you.” 

“I’d love that.” The man gave him a humble, longing look, causing his son to stand up, ready to help his dad by making him tea. “Some red tea would go well with the pastry, thank you.” 

“I’ll get it.” Harry saluted his dad before scurrying off to make the tea in the other room. He heard the two men continue to speak as he fussed about, feeling proud to be able to help. 

“Nothing has been broken this time. You clearly do not need any type of caging to keep you from the world.” The Potions Professor said. 

“I don’t feel safe without it.” Remus mumbled, although loud enough that his son could still hear him. “If it was to leave this room, I… I don’t know what could happen.” 

“You’d find yourself in the other room, incapable of escaping it.” The other man didn’t quite cut him off as he took command of the discussion. “You have not managed to break out of this room for all the time you’ve been here. It is my belief that the reason as to why you are usually hurt the day after has to do with the lack of space which you allow yourself. In this bedroom, you can wander without being as locked in. I believe that the things which you have broken were not broken for any other reason than the creature finding them strange or unusual. It might even have played with them and accidentally broke them. You believe it to be far more evil than it is.” 

“I don’t want to talk about this now, Severus. Please.” The voice sounded muffled, as if the man was hiding his face in his hands. “Thank you for bringing Harry here safely but…” 

“You shouldn’t hide from him.” The Potions Master informed the man. “He does not deserve you hiding from him.”

“Not now. Please. I cannot handle this now.” The werewolf begged in a subtle voice which made Harry feel guilty for coming in the first place. However, he recalled what Professor Snape had said about his dad needing to not be afraid or ashamed over himself, thus, he needed to see his son to learn that things weren’t as bad as he thought. 

The kettle called out, telling Harry that the water was ready. He filled the three cups which he had placed on his dad’s desk, bringing the first one to his dad. He tried to act like he hadn’t heard the conversation so as to not stress the tired man out further. “Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” Remus accepted the cup and the saucer. Harry left the room to hurry back with a jar of honey and a spoon. “Oh, thank you again.” The man smiled at his son, seemingly feeling a little better. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Harry left the room once more to give himself and Professor Snape a cup of tea each. The man nodded in appreciation, making the cup and saucer hover next to him. The plate which had been for Remus floated over to him and placed itself onto his lap. For a while, the room was silent as the men picked at their breakfast and Harry tried to drink his scalding tea without burning himself. It seemed that his dad was becoming more and more relaxed as time passed, allowing him to ease back into a state of comfort. 

“Actually… dad, I was wondering if you could help me with something?” Harry spoke up after a while, having surrendered to the fact that his tea was too hot for human consumption and that he needed to wait. “Especially now that Professor Snape is here too, uh… I was wondering if…” He hesitated, unsure how to formulate himself on the topic. 

His father smiled at him, taking the time to reach out and pat his back. “Take all the time you need, we will wait.” 

Harry did as suggested, taking a few deeper breaths before trying again. “If you remember, dad, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinsson have been acting rather distant towards me and Malfoy, mostly Malfoy. They are upset with what has been happening between Mr. Malfoy and Hagrid, and they blame the Malfoys for Hagrid not being an adequate teacher.” 

The Potions Master slowly raised an eyebrow at his statement. “Appointing Hagrid as a teacher without the adequate education making him eligible as one was a grand mistake on the Headmaster’s part. We have Lucius to thank for the fact that he was removed from his position so early and placed into a proper educational program.”

“Yes, I do know that.” Harry agreed. “Yet they feel like it is unfair. They have taken to pretending that Malfoy doesn’t exist. Nothing we say can get through to them. Malfoy had a big fight with his father when he went home this winter break, I think it will break him completely if our friends keep on blaming him for the events with Hagrid now when he isn’t on speaking terms with Mr. Malfoy.” 

The werewolf nodded, his brows furrowed in thought. “You are right, this should be dealt with. I will take it upon myself to speak with Hagrid and those three, I… I personally apologise that I haven’t done anything about this as of sooner.” 

“Rather, I shall speak with them.” Professor Snape objected, although he spoke very matter-of-factly. “As the Head of the Slytherin House, it is my responsibility to assist my students if there are conflicts. I will discuss this with Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Goyle and Ms. Parkinson when they return from their break. Ten points to Slytherin for bringing it to my attention. You should have approached me sooner about this Lupin.” 

“S-sorry…” Harry mumbled, avoiding the Potion Professor’s eyes. “I thought that it was something we should be able to solve ourselves. Just like we managed to solve the thing with Malfoy and Hermione last year. This seemed so much less compared to that…” Harry sighed, looking down at his toes. “I thought that they would come around with some time, yet waiting doesn’t seem to be a working solution.” 

Remus shifted in the bed, coming to sit next to Harry on the edge, the boy couldn’t help but notice the difference in their height, as Remus legs were long enough that his pajama trousers only reached half way up his calves while Harry’s had to be rolled up to avoid him stepping on the hem. 

“There are situations where the people inside it are unable to solve it without help from the outside.” The werewolf told his son. “This does not mean that you are weak, or that you didn’t try enough. There are times when people are too lost in their arguments or what they want to be the truth that they will only listen to a figure of authority or someone outside of the argument. Sometimes, there are people who would rather not solve the argument at all, and all you can do then is try and move on. However, in this particular case, the people who blame Malfoy for the event with Hagrid are in the wrong. When you grow older, there might come situations where there are no solutions but to go separate ways. I’m not trying to discredit your youth, and it is true that there will likely be more complex situations in the future which aren’t so easy that they can be talked through with an adult by your sides.” 

Harry sighed and leaned against the man’s shoulder, once again feeling so very small next to him, both body and mind. “I just don’t understand why Professor Dumbledore would hire Hagrid to begin with. He has lived here most of his life, wouldn’t the Headmaster know him enough to know that he wasn’t ready for a teaching position?” It felt easier to question the man who hired Hagrid in the first place, rather than think about the fact that friendships could be lost over something which could potentially be solved. Harry wanted to believe that a compromise or a solution could always be found, but he felt like his dad was right that sometimes, that just wasn’t an option. 

Instead of his dad, Professor Snape answered him. “The Headmaster and deputy Headmistress are currently very busy arranging a school scale event for the upcoming year. The event is taking up a lot of both their times, not to mention energy. The former teacher resigned about two months before the last term, leaving Professor Dumbledore with no other choice than to search for a new Care for Magical Creatures teacher while he was already very busy. He did not manage to find one before the term started, and decided to give Hagrid a chance.” The man’s lips became thin, as if talking about Hagrid as a teacher made a sour taste fill his mouth. “It was not a successful gamble.” 

“Then where did our French teacher come from?” Harry asked, leaning his head to the side with a frown. “Couldn’t he just have hired him right away?” 

“The event for next year involves working with two other magical schools, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. When Madam Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, read about our Headmaster’s predicament in _The Daily Prophet_ , as she is known to keep an eye on international relations and news, she took to helping him finding a suitable replacement who had previously been employed at her school. As I am sure you know, the man is retired, and is not a full time suitable replacement, yet he is more than welcome while Hagrid works to receive his teaching license.” The Potions Master explained. 

“So when Hagrid is ready, he really will be allowed to come back to teaching?” Harry asked carefully, feeling somewhat bad for asking. 

“Yes, the Headmaster is very eager to have him teach, as he would be a great inspiration for students who are struggling with magic.” The Head of the Slytherin House continued. “While I do not necessarily approve of him as a person, I do agree with the notion that his career would be an inspiration for young mages.” 

“As do I.” Remus agreed with the other man. “He would make a great figure of inspiration.”

 _As would you, dad._ Harry wished that he had the courage to speak up, yet he couldn’t quite tell him when the man was so evidently keen on denying anything positive about himself regarding his condition for the moment. The Potions Master’s lips twitched, displaying a smile for what seemed like a fraction of a second, before he forced it away from his face. Purged it, almost. 

Harry stayed with his dad and Professor Snape for a while, listening to them speak and joining in every now and then. It wasn’t too interesting a conversation, but it was pleasant to see his dad happy and relaxed. Something seemed to have changed between the two men, as they were now allowing one another closer, and enjoyed speaking with one another. In fact, it was as if they were subconsciously trying to make up for the silence which had previously been established between the two of them. 

After nearly an hour, Professor Snape realised that he had remained for a longer time than he had planned on. The man stood from the chair which the Lupins had finally managed to convince him that he needed for the sake of comfort. 

“I have work I must look over. I shall walk you back to your common room, Lupin.” He turned towards Remus, who had opened his mouth, likely to express his desire to take his son back to his House, yet Professor Snape interrupted him. “You will rest. This is one of few opportunities you have to recover in peace, allow yourself to listen to the needs of your body.” 

The werewolf sank back in the bed, surrendering without a fight. “Very well… Take care, son.” He hugged Harry, who hugged him back. 

“Make sure to get loads of rest.” The boy urged the man. “Oh, I forgot to ask, what about the broom? Has it proven to be dangerous at all?” 

Remus shook his head. “It truly is a normal broom. It has not been hexed, jinxed, cursed or charmed in any way.” 

“Do you mind if I bring it back to the common room?” Harry continued, half bouncing on the soles of his feet. “I know someone who really deserves a new broom.” 

“Of course you can take it, it was gifted to you after all.” The werewolf told his son, smiling at him with a proud look in his eyes. “I trust you to do what is best.” 

“Thank you!” Harry grinned back, hurrying out of the bedroom and into the office, finding the broom resting against a wall. It truly looked brand new. 

Harry felt somewhat guilty for what he was about to do, seeing as he could theoretically sell the broom for money and give that money to his dad. However, he wasn’t sure that he wanted the money which would come with selling the broom. If it truly was from Sirius Black, it would feel very strange to owe that murderer money. Not to mention that Remus wasn’t likely to be willing to accept the money in the first place. There truly was no joy in any money coming from selling the broom, thus, it was better to do the less problematic thing of simply handing it to someone who deserved it. 

Professor Snape left Harry in the common room where Malfoy, Nott, Neville and Hermione were playing Muggle games. Malfoy in particular seemed to have eagerly awaited his return. The blonde boy stood up from the carpet, leaving the group to ask Harry about his dad’s condition, to which Harry replied that the man had gotten sick and would likely stay in bed for the day. 

It was only after confirming that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was alright that Malfoy noticed the broom which Harry was holding. Now that he had the chance to see it up close, the blonde mage realised just what Harry held in his arms. “Lupin, that is…”

“Is that a Firebolt?” An excited voice cut Malfoy off as Oliver Wood more or less came running towards them, his face lit up with passion. “Oh my Quidditch gods, Lupin, now you have to join the Slytherin team! You cannot have a broom like that and not play Quidditch.” 

Flint came walking behind his firecracker boyfriend, following behind him with a much more passive interest in the two third year students and their broom. Harry realised this close to the Slytherin captain that he had a cleft lip, which was partly the reason as to why he appeared to be baring his teeth most of the time. Now that he knew that the young man wasn’t in any way as dangerous as he liked to pretend that he was, Harry felt bad for ever thinking that the deformity was frightening. It truly wasn’t. 

“Have you gotten a new broom or something?” Flint looked down at the item which Harry was holding, passively stopping next to his smaller boyfriend. 

“Actually, I wanted to give it to you.” Harry held it out towards the Slytherin captain. “You saved my life, and I really do not need this broom, so, well… I’d be very happy if you could accept it.” 

Flint stared down at the broom as his boyfriend almost squealed with happiness, pulling on his partner’s arm. “It’saFireboltyouhavetoacceptit.” Wood breathed more than he spoke. 

“...What?” Flint blinked down at Wood. “I really can’t understand you when you talk like that.” 

“It’s a Firebolt, you have to accept it! It’s a great broom! With that, you might even stand a chance against us in the final. You could even play with it in higher leagues after you graduate!” 

“I don’t know…” Flint rubbed the back of his head, looking away from the item which Harry was offering. The teenager seemed unsure and insecure about the whole ordeal. “I’m not sure where you got that thing, and I didn’t save you from breaking your neck to expect anything in return.”

“It’saFireboltyouhavetoacceptit.” 

“Yes, yes.” The Slytherin captain sighed as his firecracker boyfriend pulled on his sleeve again. 

“It would do me a great service if you took this broom off my hands. I got it as a present, both dad and Professor Snape have investigated it for any dangerous magic. I have no use for it, and I want to give it to you because you would get the most use out of it. Malfoy has his own broom, Neville has his, none of my friends need this. There is only you who I know of who would have any use for this.” 

“It’saFireboltyouhavetoacceptit!”

Finally, Flint reached forward, awkwardly accepting the broom. “If you really have no use for it…” He mumbled. “Thanks.” 

Harry beamed back at him. “No, thank you for taking it.” 

Wood grabbed Flint’s arm and began pulling him out of the common room, happily chattering about taking the broom for a ride around the Quidditch arena. The taller teenager surrendered to follow his partner, smiling softly at his enthusiasm and passion. The two disappeared off together, leaving Harry and Malfoy standing alone, looking after them. 

Flint truly had calmed down a lot ever since he started dating Wood. At least so Harry assumed, seeing that he had only really seen them together over the Holiday break, but that alone made it evident that something had changed. 

Malfoy sighed, scrunching his nose in disapproval. “Imagine dating someone from Gryffindor. You’d never feel at ease or calm, you’d just be waiting for them to get caught in the next mad scheme of hubris and passion.” 

“Yeah…” Harry scratched the back of his head. “At least Flint seems happy with him. That’s great. Oh, and speaking of great, dad and Professor Snape are on talking terms now. They seem to get along just fine.” 

“Finally.” Malfoy breathed. “Professor Snape needs to stop being allergic to his own happiness.” 

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle. “He sure does.” 

“Malfoy, if you don’t come back I’m taking over your hotel by terms of war!” Nott yelled from the other side of the room, calling the blonde mage back to their game of monopoly. 

“I’m not surrendering them.” Malfoy hurried back to the game board, having Harry tail behind him. 

Neville hurriedly waved for Harry to sit with him. As he did, the Gryffindor boy leaned in to whisper to him. “They are crazy, battling for monopoly tooth and nail. I don’t stand a chance.” He shook his head, glancing around at the other players with impressed awe. 

“Who is winning?” Harry whispered back. 

“Hermione, but nobody is giving in. It’s more brutal than any game of Wizard Chess which I’ve ever seen. Including that big one.” Neville licked his lips. “Brutal I say.” 

“I’m glad I’m not playing.” Harry smiled. “Do you want me to teach you how to knit since we don’t have anything else happening right now?” 

Neville’s face lit up. “I’d love to!”


	18. Chapter 17 - In which Hermione Granger proves that the Grim isn’t haunting anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh, a-actually… I happen to have, well, researched the legends of the Grim for a school project.” Hermione began, stumbling through her words in a way which was very uncharacteristic for her. Weasley clearly made her nervous. 
> 
> “...Great.” Weasley looked away, resigning to another person bullying him for his fear of the creature. 
> 
> “We believe that there are some things you might want to know in regards to the Grim.” Malfoy continued, trying very hard to not cross his arms in a display of discomfort. The whole scenario was clearly not as flawless as the friends had imagined it could be. 

Life at Hogwarts continued on after the winter break, and Professor Snape proved to be true to his word. He took Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson to his office, presumably talked them through what had happened with Hagrid and Mr. Malfoy, as well as informed them of what would happen to Hagrid from there on. 

After this, Goyle came to Malfoy and Harry and apologised for not understanding the situation, confessing that he felt very bad over blaming the boy for what his father was doing, only to then apologise again for the way they had treated him and Harry by proxy. Parkinson claimed that she had no stakes in the discussion from the first place, but she did apologise for the way they had treated the other two, even if her words might not have been as sincere as Goyle’s. Crabbe didn’t quite accept the truth so easily, even if he couldn’t talk against Professor Snape, it was clear from his behavior that he still wanted someone to blame. He was no longer fighting with Malfoy, or encouraged that he be isolated, but he didn’t want to talk to him and sat furthest away from him at the House table. Harry wished that he would apologise as well, yet he clearly needed more time. Malfoy was satisfied with not having to handle three of his friends fighting with him, as at least Goyle was more than determined to become friends again, and Parkinsson was never really a problem when she was alone. 

Soon after the students’ return to Hogwarts, Remus held a second Dementor lesson. Far less people showed up to this one compared to the first, which might appear to be rather telling of their attitude towards the extra subject, yet in reality, it did offer the students who were less a much more ideal training area. As less students meant more room for those who were left, and less distraction from outside only helped improve their focus. Most people had probably decided to not have the extra classes once they realised just how difficult the spell actually was to cast for them. 

Harry had been thinking a lot about what he could use to produce a patronus during the break, and it was clear that he wasn’t the only one. Soon after the lesson started, an older student whose name Harry didn’t know managed to produce a patronus. It was some breed of dog, one which Harry had seen before on the streets but didn’t know the name of. It ran around, barking and wagging its tail before disappearing in a puff of silvery smoke. After that, a few more older students began to be able to cast fully formed patronuses, sending beautiful silvery animals running around the room, dancing in the air to soaring high in the ceilings. They were still a vast minority, even among their own age, but their success seemed to motivate the remaining students. 

Some other students managed to produce the silvery shield, which Harry also managed to call forth. Malfoy finally managed to cast the shield as well, yet it was clear on the boy that he was struggling with keeping his serenity. His best friend couldn’t help but note that had the issue with Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson not been solved in the slightest, he probably wouldn’t have managed to produce the shield at all. 

Next to Harry, Neville took a deep breath. His eyes were closed as he breathed in and out in a slow, collected manner. His lips moved, two low sentences leaving his lips. “I’m alright. Everything is fine.” He moved his wand in a calm pattern in front of him, not so much thinking as he was allowing the wand to simply follow his hand as he continued to focus on his breathing. “I’m fine.” 

Neville opened his eyes, looking calmer than Harry could remember seeing him before. He raised his wand and not so much spoke as he whispered “Expecto Patronum.” 

From the tip of his wand sprung a small creature. Harry blinked at it, trying to identify it. It had the body of a snake yet upon that body was a set of tiny wings. The shape of the head was also slightly wrong for being a snake. The silvery snake flew upwards in a graceful soar, where it caught the attention of a few onlookers other than Harry. Then something strange happened, the winged serpent began to grow. It was as if it grew in the time where one blinked, making it appear bigger within instants. It continued to expand, growing so large that it seemed to occupy every available space in the room, slithering between the students, the pillars and the beams in the roof. 

“It’s an occamy…” Someone whispered as the giant creature shook its feathered head. 

“But… who cast it?” Another whispered. 

Neville stared, looking up at the creature with utter disbelief in his eyes. Unlike most other students who had managed to cast a patronus, he didn’t seem close to fatigued, only slightly out of breath. “That isn’t… is that… mine?” He whispered, not specifically to Harry, but asking the world. “That just can’t be… it’s huge and I’m just…” 

“It came from your wand.” Harry reassured him, smiling up at the giant patronus. It had now been manifested longer than any other patronus. It almost felt unbelievable, the beast was so very large and yet looked so very gentle.

“It can’t be mine… I’m not even that tired. Everyone else has fallen to their knees and I… I’m still standing and that is gigantic.” Neville still stared up at the occamy, unable to believe what Harry knew to be the truth. 

The creature moved its head backwards, letting out a beautiful noise, like chirped tunes of music, before disappearing in a soft silvery mist. Someone clapped, leading to other students clapping as well. 

“Excellent, Mr. Longbottom.” Remus praised the boy, causing him to jump as he hadn’t realised that their teacher had approached him. “A splendidly cast patronus.” 

“But I… Was that really me, Professor? I can barely cast magic as it is, how could that giant thing be mine when people almost fainted from just casting the shield version of a patronus?” The boy half mumbled half blurted out, looking at the man as if he wanted Remus to prove to him that he didn’t cast that patronus. 

“There is a rather unexplored theory about magic when it comes to external and internal magic. Most mages mostly only ever use external magic, that is to say, wielding the magic around them. However, there are studies which show that those with a lot of internal magic can sometimes struggle to cast spells and the like, due to their internal magic ending up rejecting the external magic. There are no real methods to test or evaluate the levels of internal magic, making the subject only theoretical, yet I was told by your mother once that she had struggled with magic all her life before learning to cast spells with her internal magic rather than external magic.” Remus told the boy with a gentle expression on his face. 

“My mother… struggled with magic? I’ve only heard of them both being perfect and accomplished mages.” Neville more or less whispered, unable to look at the Professor as he spoke. 

“They were accomplished, but that does not mean that they always were.” The teacher gently patted the boy’s shoulder. “The Patronus Charm uses internal magic, judging by the way you were able to cast it and the way you are now, I believe that the internal magic theory applies to you.” 

“Really?” Neville looked hopeful. “So I’m not just a useless magic user? I’m actually just a little different?” 

“There are no such things as a useless magic user.” The man assured the boy. “Unfortunately, I can’t teach you how to cast spells or charms using your internal magic, as I am not like you. However, I will speak to the rest of the teachers and see if there might be someone among the staff who can teach you privately. If that is alright with you of course?” 

Neville nodded enthusiastically at his words. “Please! A-as long as it isn’t Professor Snape teaching me…” 

Remus laughed. “No, I’ll make sure that you get a teacher with whom you’re comfortable with.” He moved on to help another student, leaving the group on their own. 

“Did you hear that?” Neville beamed at his friends. “I’m not useless, I should just be casting magic differently!” 

“That’s really cool.” Harry agreed, beaming back at him. “Your patronus was amazing, Neville. You’re amazing.” 

“Oh shucks!” The boy responded, his cheeks red as he tried to wave away the other boy’s compliment. 

“What… was that patronus?” Hermione looked uncertain as she asked, glancing up at the place where its head had been. “How did it grow so fast?” 

“That was an occamy.” Malfoy explained, as they had agreed on last year, to help one another with what they didn’t understand about each other’s different worlds. “Occamy are generally found in the Far East and India. It is a plumed, winged creature with a serpentine body, the occamy may reach a length of fifteen feet. The occamy are known to be choranaptyxic, meaning it grows or shrinks in order to fit the available space.” 

“...Oh, I do remember now, that was one of the beasts mentioned in our course literature for the first year!” Hermione lightly tapped her own head with her knuckles. “How could I forget?”

“Everyone forgets things. Don’t be hard on yourself for it.” Malfoy smiled at her, giving her shoulder a pat. 

“That fits you so well.” Harry smiled at Neville. “Something which grows to fit the available space… If that isn’t you.” He chuckled as Neville turned very red. 

“I...ah, t-thanks.” He managed to stutter out, shaking his head at the other boy’s compliment. Hermione and Malfoy nodded, agreeing with Harry that an occamy fit Neville very well. 

Ron Weasley was not doing very well during the Dementor lesson. He was getting increasingly frustrated with himself, until the teacher told him to take a break and breathe for a few minutes before trying again. As he walked over to a desk in a corner and sat down upon the chair next to it, Hermione gave Malfoy a nudge with her elbow. 

The two of them carefully walked over to Weasley, with Hermione asking if they could speak with him. The boy looked uncomfortable in every sense of the word, acting as if he was expecting them to try and bully him since he was alone. 

“Uh, a-actually… I happen to have, well, researched the legends of the Grim for a school project.” Hermione began, stumbling through her words in a way which was very uncharacteristic for her. Weasley clearly made her nervous. 

“...Great.” Weasley looked away, resigning to another person bullying him for his fear of the creature. 

“We believe that there are some things you might want to know in regards to the Grim.” Malfoy continued, trying very hard to not cross his arms in a display of discomfort. The whole scenario was clearly not as flawless as the friends had imagined it could be. 

“Really? How nice of you.” Weasley’s voice was dry as he kept his eyes on the ground, silently telling them to go away with his body language. 

“In fact, everything you know about the Grim is false.” Hermione blurted out, finally causing the red haired boy to look at her. 

“...Uh, what?” He finally asked. 

Hermione’s face was quite red as she continued to speak. “In fact, the Grim’s origin relates back to a friendly spirit which inhabited graveyards, protecting them from people who wanted to steal the bones or clothes or items from the graves.” She was speaking faster than normal, a very clear sign that she was nervous and wasn’t expected to be listened to. “The Grim is actually a guardian spirit created by burying a black dog when a new church was founded, more commonly referred to as a Church Grim. There is some uncertainty if the dog needed to be alive while being buried, but it is more likely than not that it wasn’t. Seeing that mages have historically tried to get ritual material from Muggle graveyards, the Grim was probably defending against them.” 

“Another possible beginning of the Grim legends would be Black Shuck, an East Anglian ghostly black dog which is said to roam the coastline and countryside of East Anglia. Even then, it is only one of many ghostly black dogs recorded in folklore across the British Isles. The creature's appearance and nature vary considerably; it is sometimes recorded as an omen of death, but, in other instances, is described as companionable. Black Shuck has also been described to visit churchyards at midnight. Thus, it is similar to the Church Grim.” Malfoy continued, describing another possible origin for the Grim. 

Weasley blinked at them, seeming both confused and uncertain. However, he was starting to look somewhat hopeful. 

“Finally,” Hermione continued, no longer appearing as stressed as before. “There is the Barghast. The Barghest does indeed often serve as an omen of death. At the passing of a notable person the Barghest may appear, followed by all the other dogs of the local area in a form of funeral procession, heralding the person's death with howling and barking. If anyone were to get in the Barghest's way it would strike out with its paw and leave a wound that never heals, according to legend. Besides taking the form of a large black dog with fiery eyes, it could also become invisible and walk about with the sound of rattling chains. It may also foretell the death of an individual by laying across the threshold of his or her house, and like the vampire the Barghest is unable to cross rivers.” She stopped to breathe, allowing Malfoy to continue.

“With all this in mind, the Grim which you fear isn’t likely real, and if it is real, the mage society has more likely than not misinterpreted what it actually is. The idea of it simply showing up, signalling someone’s death just isn’t logical enough for that to be reality with this other evidence. As an omen, it certainly does seem to symbolise death, yet if you have continuously been seeing a black dog, it is more than likely just a normal dog, nothing more.” The blonde mage reached their conclusion, supported by Hermione’s nodding. 

“We thought that… maybe, this would make you feel better?” Hermione carefully asked, hiding a little behind her hair as she played with her own thumbs in front of herself, unable to look at the red haired boy’s face. 

“So you’re trying to tell me that the mage society misunderstood and that the Grim isn’t really dangerous?” Weasly didn’t sound skeptical, but he did sound hopeful. 

“The Grim is the misconception of a Church Grim and other big black dog stories from around Britain and Scandinavia. It isn’t after you, it doesn’t signal your death and the dog you’ve seen is likely just any old dog from the Forbidden Forest.” Malfoy enforced what they had learnt from researching. 

“I mean… that does sound good and all, but my uncle Billus did see the Grim and died from it.” Weasley looked at them with a pleading expression, as if he wanted them to disprove that his uncle really had seen the Grim. 

“I have a theory in regards to that.” Hermione nodded. “Superstition, most mages who think they see the Grim become so scared that they worry themselves to death. It’s a recorded fact in many Muggle novels that worry can cause death. If you allow yourself to relax and no longer fear it, you will likely be alright.” 

The boy blinked, then smiled awkwardly. “I guess. That’s kind of good to know, uh, I guess.” He stared at them for a few seconds before continuing to speak. “Thanks.” 

The three separated after Hermione and Malfoy excused themselves. She came back to Harry and Neville with a very red face and an antsy manner, asking them if they thought it was worth hers and Malfoy’s effort to inform the Gryffindor boy about the spectral dog’s real roots. They assured her that it was, yet it wasn’t until Weasley managed to cast the patronus shield that she was convinced that she had managed to do something good. 

For the next week, things seemed rather fine with Hermione and Weasley. They didn’t really talk or interact but there was a calm between them which had never really been there before. That calm didn’t last for more than a week before Crookshanks knocked over Scabbers’ wooden cage and almost managed to catch the rat before he was stopped by someone. That sent the two back into an argument, leaving Weasley to avoid Hermione once more. The rejection after having tried to help him, only to have it all seemingly destroyed by her cat caused her quite a lot of distress. Luckily for her, she had friends to help her through her emotions, while Weasley was stuck with his Gryffindor bullies. 

Due to Hermione struggling with feeling positive and motivated due to everything which was happening in her life and with Weasley, nobody at the Slytherin table was especially surprised to see her appear agitated and upset that morning. They all understood that she needed some time to find her way back again, seeing as she was taking a lot of classes while trying to establish a friendly relationship with someone who was continuously blaming her for the actions of her cat. Added to that was the situation with Black. At least the final one was not unique to her, many students found themselves struggling to focus on their studies when the threat of Black was ever present. Nonetheless, she was studying a lot of things that year, and it was clear that it was affecting her negatively as well as positively. Harry could only imagine how badly off she would have been if Professor McGonagall hadn’t told her to only pick three out of five subjects. 

Hermione’s distress wasn’t especially surprising to them, yet the expression which haunted Neville’s face was. The Great Hall had been buzzing with whispers all morning, since all students had been accompanied by Aurors to the hall. Aurors who hadn’t been on the school grounds the day before. Yet the group of Slytherins hadn’t quite realised that something big had happened until their Gryffindor friends sat down with them, evidently frightened and bothered. They had not actually heard anything yet through means of gossip either. Harry got an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that the ruckus might be related to Black, but he had tried his best to push the notion far away as to not frighten himself or anyone around him.

“What happened?” Malfoy was swift and demanding in requesting an answer from them. 

Neville took a deep breath, nervously glancing over at Harry before speaking. “Sirius Black broke into Hogwarts again.”

Just like so, he confirmed Harry’s greatest fear. 


	19. Chapter 18 - In which Harry Lupin gets bitten by a rat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yesterday, during the night… Sirius Black somehow broke into the Gryffindor common room.” Neville lowered his voice, speaking in little more than whispers. 

“What?” 

In hindsight, it wasn’t really possible to separate who had spoken. Almost every Slytherin student in their group echoed the same question, almost flawlessly speaking at once. Harry was one of the few people who hadn’t spoken the question out loud, instead finding himself staring at Neville’s lips, as if trying to understand his words by staring at the long since still lips. The world around Harry felt too present, yet far distant, his chest feeling heavy and cold. He couldn’t quite comprehend what had just been said. 

“Yesterday, during the night… Sirius Black somehow broke into the Gryffindor common room.” Neville lowered his voice, speaking in little more than whispers. 

His words explained the presence of the Aurors, who had returned to Hogwarts and guided students to and from the Great Hall. In hindsight, it felt painfully obvious that something had happened during the night. Harry didn’t like that his first suspicion had been correct, he truly wished that it had been wrong. 

“I saw him.” Neville confessed in a frightened whisper. “I saw Black… There was this strange noise of a door opening, but everyone was already sleeping. Then I heard this low ripping noise, I later learned that it was fabric ripping. I wasn’t the only one who woke up. Weasley woke as well, and I heard him scream. Black was standing above him, holding a knife. It looked like he was about to… to… With the knife… E-either way, his scream woke everyone in the dormitory, causing Black to bolt for the door. When he did, I saw his clothes, it was definitely the Azkaban prison uniform.” He shuddered, shrinking together. “The rest of the night was… horrible. I feel like I haven’t slept at all.” 

“I know I haven’t…” Hermione whispered, rubbing her eyes with an appearance like she was about to cry. “Although Crookshanks kept me company, so at least I wasn’t feeling alone. The other girls in my dormitory spent most of the night crying.” 

“Aurors were called, Professor McGonagall stayed with us all night to protect us from Black.” Neville continued. “They’ve likely searched through the entire school, trying to find him. I suppose we will get a report from Professor Dumbledore when breakfast starts.” 

As if the Headmaster had been waiting for Neville’s cue, the man addressed the entirety of the school at that moment, calling for their attention. He proceeded to tell the students of the second break in and what measurements were being taken to protect the students and the staff from further attacks. The school would be patrolled by Aurors who would keep the inside of the building safe, while more Dementors would be added to the grounds outside of the Hogwarts grounds, much to the man’s displeasure. Hogsmeade would be searched through, as would the Shrieking Shack. Students were only allowed to leave onto the grounds if they remained in larger groups and even then, it was not encouraged. Quidditch practice would be supervised by Aurora at all times, and all visits to Hogsmeade would be cancelled for the conceivable future. Further, additional care was put into protecting the Gryffindor students, as their common room had been continually attacked by the man. 

The students returned to their breakfasts, most finding that they had lost their appetites. Harry picked at his food, surrendering to trying to drink juice at the very least. As he was more or less sucking on the glass, trying to feel the taste of his juice, Malfoy voiced a thought out loud. 

“But...Why Weasley?” He realised that his question made little sense and tried again. “Why would Black be trying to break into the Gryffindor common room and dormitories and attack him? What does he stand to gain from that?” Malfoy looked between his friends, searching their faces for an answer. 

“...You are right.” Hermione agreed, she had made a valiant effort to eat a piece of scones, yet her hands were shaking so much that it was hard for her to feed herself. 

“Seeing as Harry’s father was a Gryffindor student, perhaps the man thinks that Harry is too?” Blaise theorised as he ripped his toast apart, absently pulling it into thinner and thinner pieces. “He might be searching for Harry in the dormitory he thinks that he belongs to.” 

“Yes, we do know that, but why attack Weasley in the first place?” Malfoy leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “He should be after Lupin, according to every motive we have for him.” 

“He didn’t technically attack him, I guess... Black only destroyed the curtains around his bed.” Neville explained, he hadn’t even made an attempt to eat. “He might have been searching for Harry in our dormitory, but ran away when he realised that Harry wasn’t in that bed.” 

Harry’s glass hit the table with a loud clatter, his hand was shaking too much for him to be able to hold it. It didn’t break, but he spilled pumpkin juice all over the table. Harry felt as if the world was dancing before him once more, the objects before him on the table seemed to consist out of colors rather than shapes. It was hard to breathe as well, his chest felt so heavy that every breath hurt. 

Malfoy immediately reached out to support him, the touch helped him, yet it didn’t solve his discomfort entirely. He only realised how badly he was shaking when the steady hands of his best friend supported him. 

“Sorry.” Harry mumbled, reaching out for a napkin to try and dry the juice up, yet Goyle had already begun helping him with it. 

“Don’t apologise.” Goyle encouraged him with a smile as he placed Harry’s glass to the side. “We’re sorry for not taking you into consideration.” 

“Yes, no more talking about this.” Malfoy ordered, despite being the one to initiate the conversation. Everyone secretly concluded that he felt guilty and did what he felt was best for the continued safety of his best friend. Nobody spoke up about it though. 

The conversation shifted into something more pleasant, slowly allowing the son of a werewolf to relax. As the breakfast continued, Remus arrived at the Great Hall, and he took the time to walk over and speak to his son, comforting him. In hindsight, Harry didn’t remember much of what the man had said, but he had truly needed the comfort from his dad’s hugs at that moment. 

The rest of that day was mostly a blur for Harry. He felt completely incapable of focusing, every spell he tried to cast went wrong or didn’t work and he wasn’t the only one. Some of the teachers attempted to hold their lessons as normal, yet some realised and shifted the focus of the lectures to try and make the students have fun or relax instead of traditional learning. 

  
  


Harry fell into a state of depression, not too dissimilar to Hermione’s state of exhaustion, which she had been combating since the failure to ease the tension between her and Weasley. It was hard to do anything and even harder to concentrate on anything. 

The depression stemmed from the realisation that Black could have killed someone. He had of course realised that Black was dangerous and that he was a threat, yet the common rooms had always felt safe. The murderer had previously been unable to break into the Gryffindor common room, yet had somehow managed this time. He had been in the same room as Harry’s friend Neville, he had stood over a sleeping child with a knife. If that person had been Harry, if he had been a Gryffindor student, he might not have been alive now. The reality of death and murder hung so very heavy over his head that Harry felt like it was suffocating him. 

No place truly felt safe, and he laid awake at night, listening for any signs that the door might open. Yet more than anything, he feared that Black might hurt his friends. Or that someone might be killed because the escaped madman was attempting to murder Harry Potter. The man could have murdered Weasley, after all, just because he was chasing Harry. It felt like it was all his fault, yet he also felt frightened by the world around him who had made an icon of a boy who survived because of his mother’s love. If they hadn’t done that to an unknowing and unwilling baby, perhaps Harry could have just been left alone, allowed to live his life as Harry Lupin, untouched by the expectations of the world. Unaffected by the threat of an insane supporter of the Dark Lord. 

For the first few days, Harry felt like he went from class to class like a walking corpse, uncertain as to why he was there and even more uncertain over what to do to feel better. There were things which made him feel less anxious, but classes made everything worse as it left him unable to hide from the fears which plagued him. 

Malfoy and his other friends helped him the best they could, and Harry was thankful towards them, yet he was haunted by the feeling that he didn’t actually have anything to be depressed about. When he voiced his fears, his friends made certain to tell him that he was being unreasonable and plain unfair towards himself. They assured him that nobody was blaming him and that he was by no means guilty of what was happening around him. Yet it didn’t quite chase the feeling of guilt from his mind.

The Dementor lessons was another clear sign that Harry wasn’t feeling well. More and more people were able to produce full fledged patronuses among the older students. A young blonde girl managed to call forth a corporeal patronus as well. Harry heard his dad congratulate the girl, calling her Ms. Lovegood as he did. The boy only recalled that it happened due to thinking that her name was quite strange, and that he found the hare patronus rather cute. Yet Harry couldn’t even produce the shield version of it, something which Malfoy had gotten close to mastering at that point. 

After the Dementor class, Remus noticed his son’s struggles and took to spending more time with him when he could, inviting Harry and his friends to spend the weekends in his office to allow the boy to relax. It was one of few things which actually helped him. Harry only really felt safe when he was with both his dad and his friends. Just like his father had described, there were times when he felt okay, when he could laugh, where he felt good, but the fears and anxiety always came creeping back, suffocating him again.

About a month passed, with Harry pendling back and forth between stages of feeling depressed, but sometimes better. At least he found himself able to confirm that the state brought about by the presence of Dementors really wasn’t much like the state he found himself when he truly felt depressed. 

Finally, Malfoy decided that Harry more likely than not needed fresh air. After a lot of discussion, he managed to convince Harry to join him to a Quidditch practice. Harry wouldn’t be participating in any way, his best friend simply wanted to get him out of the castle for a while. Few places were as well protected by the Aurors as the Quidditch arena, seeing as it has previously attracted the Dementors to it. 

The air helped a lot. The scents around him were fresh, the cold was pleasing and his mind almost instantly became a better place. It was only as they were walking towards the arena, guided by strong Aurors that Harry realised that he had been locked up in the castle for months on end. It truly seemed that Malfoy had been right in that he needed the air more than anything. He didn’t know if the improvement was absolute or temporary, but he realised just how badly he needed it when he could feel the fresh air and sense of not being locked up actually making a difference. 

The Quidditch training proved to be another mock game with the Slytherin and the Gryffindor students playing against one another. It made Harry even happier to see that Flint was holding the Firebolt broom which Harry had given him during the winter break. Flint and Wood spotted him as he arrived with Malfoy, and even took the time to greet him from the middle of the arena by waving at him. As his best friend walked over to join the Quidditch players, the Auror brought Harry to the stands. 

The son of a werewolf hadn’t expected Ron Weasley to be sitting in the stand, comfortably huddled up in a blanket to escape the February cold, with his pet rat resting on his knees. At the very least pretty much all the snow was gone by then. Weasley looked up as he spotted Harry and the Auror, looking surprised to find that the green eyed boy was there. Without asking for either boy’s consent, their guardian shoved them together so that she could keep a better eye on them, before she walked a few seats up and sat down. Harry wasn’t sure if she was offering them some privacy or if she felt like she could observe the situation better from higher up. 

Harry and Weasley sat silently as the rat which Harry remembered as fat but was no longer nearly as round as it had been, chirped and hid in Weasley’s bag. It wasn’t so much that the silence was uncomfortable as it was slightly strained. Harry shuddered, tucking his hands into his armpits as he lowered himself into his knitted scarf for warmth. 

Weasley glanced at him. “...My mom made that.” He commented. It wasn’t a sour comment as much as it was a neutral, albeit somewhat surprised, disclosure. 

“Huh?” Harry’s answer was riveting. “I… yes. I got it as a holiday present. It’s my favorite scarf, she is really good at knitting.” He looked down at the scarf, remembering how much he had rejoiced over her skillfully weaved creation. It felt somewhat hard to be excited about anything for the moment, yet the memory of that happiness helped Harry remember that things hadn’t always been this heavy for him. 

“Mhm… Watch out or she will make you a sweater next.” Weasley put his hand into his bag, playing with something that Harry couldn’t see. 

“The horror.” Harry joked, watching as the Quidditch players got up on their brooms down on the arena. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the game began. Harry quickly lost track of what was happening on the field, thus he turned back to talk to Weasley instead. “How come you are out here?” There must have been a better way of phrasing his question than that, but at least it was straight forward enough. 

“Fred and George, oh, and Ginny, are all on the team. I guess I wanted to try out too but didn’t make it. I don’t… really want to be in the Gryffindor common room right now. I’m not sleeping well, I don’t really feel safe, staying with family is kind of the only thing which makes me feel alright right now.” Weasley looked up at his siblings, watching them fly past the stands at high speed. He had a distant, pained yet longing look on his face. He seemed to have forgotten that Harry was there for a few seconds, yet when he recalled, his cheeks became red and he looked to the side. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling. Didn’t mean to.” 

Harry gave him a weak smile, surprised to find that he and Weasley seemed to both be in similar state of distress right now. It was almost even more surprising that the boy was so honest with him about his own state of hurt and fear. It felt rather pleasant to be with someone who felt similar to the way he felt, yet Harry wasn’t entirely sure why that was. “You don’t have to apologise for that. I actually feel much the same as you, lying awake at night, never feeling relaxed, only finding comfort when I’m with my dad…” He trailed off, not entirely sure what he was trying to say. “It feels rather unreal… That they haven’t been able to catch Black despite everything they’ve done to achieve that goal.” 

“Yeah… And he keeps on attacking Gryffindor. Isn’t that weird?” Weasley sighed, clearly not expecting an answer. “Do you know that you are sort of shaking? Do you wanna share my blanket or something?” 

Harry blinked at the boy, staring at him with such utter confusion that the red haired boy’s cheeks began to heat with embarrassment from the lack of response. 

“W-what? If you don’t want to, you can just say no.” Weasley muttered, clearly embarrassed. 

“No it’s just… You’re being really nice. You’ve sort of presented yourself as a bit of an… unpleasant person. We’ve only ever really talked back in the Chamber of Secrets after all. I didn’t think you could be friendly.” Harry responded in a surprisingly honest manner. For all the things which Weasley had done to Hermione, he didn’t feel like he owed him to be pleasant towards him. Normally, he would either way, but as he wasn’t in the most pleasant headspace, it was hard to care about etiquette and politeness. 

Weasley shrunk together, disappearing in his homemade Gryffindor colored scarf. His hair, face and scarf combined into making his entire head region resemble a giant tomato. It didn’t help that his blanket was a reddish brown as well. “Wow… I’ve really made myself appear like a dingus, huh…?” He mumbled. 

“Yes.” Harry answered him honestly. “You fighting with Hermione over things she cannot control, like her cat's animal instincts, isn’t exactly fair either. Especially after she went out of her way to try and help you to not be scared of the Grim. She is really concerned about the way which your former friends are treating you and wanted to give you information with which to combat those bullies with.” He told him without trying to sugarcoat the truth, simply stating it as sincerely as he could without being ruthless. 

“I know, I know…” The boy admitted. “I… She did all that for me, I get it but… well… I’m just so scared about Scabbers.” He swallowed, carefully taking the rat out of the bag next to him. “It’s really hard right now, with how Dean and Seamus are making fun of me about everything. Ernie is equally bad, but I don’t live with him so I can manage. Fred and George aren’t the best supporters, my sister thinks it’s annoying to hang out with her older brother and Percy is just… so much… Always. I feel like it’s just me and Scabbers against the world. He’s the only thing which is there for me right now.” He stroked over the rat’s head, looking at him with loving eyes. “He used to belong to Percy. He’s actually twelve years old, can you believe that he has lived this long?” Weasley laughed, shrugging to himself. 

“He… used to be bigger, right?” Harry carefully reached out towards the rat. The animal panicked, and bit Harry's finger before jumping back into Weasley’s backpack. “Ow.” Harry shook his hand to distract from the pain. It would likely have been a lot more painful had it not been for his gloves. 

“Scabbers!” Weasley scolded the rat before turning back to Harry. “He’s stressed. He doesn’t mean anything bad with it.” 

“It’s alright. I’m not mad.” Harry assured him. 

“Good.” Weasley’s expression overflowed with relief. “Oh, and yes, he used to be a lot fatter. Yet he has lost so much weight, and his fur has become all matted and dull.” He looked troubled as he spoke. “I guess… thirteen really is too much to hope for at this point… I think that he might not live for much longer and the thought just… just terrifies me.” He whispered the last words, unable to speak his fears out loud. Perhaps he feared that the rat would hear him and that that would somehow make the words true. “That cat is scaring the life out of him, constantly hunting and stressing him out. I know it can’t help it but I just… I just…” He choked back a sob at the thought of losing his beloved pet. 

Harry had never really had pets in his life. He had talked to the snakes in the garden, and he had rather liked to pet the neighbour’s cat which had proved to be less scary than other cats, yet he had never known the feeling of having a relationship with a beloved pet. It was not hard to understand how much Weasley cared for his rat as he listened to the boy’s fears in regards to losing him. Harry felt like he could understand why the boy was so upset with Crookshanks, yet that didn’t give him the right to lash out and hurt Hermione. 

Harry scooted closer to the other boy, carefully joining him inside the blanket cocoon. Weasley seemed surprised, yet surrendered a piece of the blanket to him, allowing Harry to hold onto it himself. “I’m sorry about your rat.” He didn’t really know what else to say. 

The red haired boy nodded. “I’ve taken to carrying him around with me. At least then I know that he is safe and, well... with me.” 

“Won’t that become a little unhygienic after a while…?” Harry was carefully in asking, in case it would offend the other boy that his rat did in fact need to do its business. 

“Rats aren’t unhygienic at all.” Weasley objected, clearly misunderstanding what the Slytherin student had tried to say. “They groom themselves just as much as cats. They’re constantly grooming themselves and they groom each other. They also tend to organise their food into piles, so their area stays pretty neat.” The boy rambled. “They are also very intelligent. “Rats are one of the few animals known for showing empathy and compassion, especially when seeing another rat in trouble. Rats are also very social and connect to their human families, responding to the touch, sight, and sound of their people. Many rats love to cuddle.” 

“I wasn’t-” Harry tried. 

“Oh, and the thing about their tails being like worms is completely untrue!” The red haired boy ranted on. “They aren’t disgusting. They feel very soft and not slimy in the least. Although rats really don’t like it when you touch their tails so I can’t show you but it really is true.” Weasley finished in a passionate huff.

“I was talking about him needing to, you know, go to the bathroom.” The Slytherin student explained. 

“Oh.” Weasley’s face turned red again. He seemed proficient in the art of blushing. “Yeah, I mean… at least that is better than finding out that the monster cat ate him.”

“It’s not a monster cat.” Harry sighed, feeling tired. “You have the opportunity of making friends with Neville and Hermione instead of being with your old, bullying friends, and you’re refusing on the grounds of not liking her cat. You really are wasting both her hard effort and your own chances.” He hadn’t meant to tell Weasley the truth, yet it became easier than not to be honest with him. 

“...I know.” The boy whispered, curling together. “It’s just… hard. My other friends are-”

“Bullies. They aren’t your friends anymore.” 

“Well… thanks, yes, those people. If I make friends with Longbottom and Granger, they will bully me even more. I’d never get them out of my hair.” He avoided looking at Harry, pretending that they weren’t sitting shoulder to shoulder. 

“You are aware that Hermione is the most brilliant witch in all our year? How could it possibly be embarrassing to be friends with someone so skilled in the arts of magic?” Harry felt his temper escaping him and tried his best to not raise his voice. “And Neville can cast a corporeal patronus without even having to catch his breath. He is that powerful when it comes to using his internal magic.” Harry continued. “What in the name of Slytherin do your friends have that is better than any of their achievements?” 

Weasley turned very quiet. Then, he spoke in what was more or less a whisper. “But… Why would such skilled, amazing people want anything to do with me? I’ve accomplished nothing but being tricked into becoming the Heir of Slytherin. And being a dingus towards you and Malfoy and just… so many people.” He was wearing big, homemade mittens which hid his fingers, and yet Harry could tell that he was playing with the scars on his fingertips. 

“...I think they are just good people who don't like to see someone suffering when they can help it. I don’t think it’s so much about you deserving them as it is about you not deserving to be treated the way your former friends treat you.” Harry admitted, resting his head in his hand while absently trying to follow one of the green players on the field with his eyes. “Still, if you really want to be worthy of them, you have a lot to apologise for. You’d also have to work to not be a hurtful person around them, or they wouldn’t want anything to do with you. At least not in the long run.”

Weasley turned quiet again, possibly thinking hard about something. Finally, he spoke. “You are right. I have a lot of things to apologise for. To Granger, but also to you and Malfoy. Probably Longbottom as well… Maybe even the whole world.” He sighed, hiding in his hands as a weak sob left his lips. 

Harry hadn’t felt any sympathy for him until that point, but when he actually admitted that he knew that he should be apologising, the son of a werewolf felt hopeful that the boy could actually improve. Still, Weasley needed to do more than just say that he would do it, he needed to actually do it too. 

“Do you… think that maybe you could… help me arrange it?” Weasley carefully asked, looking over at Harry with big, dog like eyes. “I want to… I don’t know, meet somewhere on neutral ground and talk about it. Somewhere where… people won’t walk in on us or bother or… Just somewhere where I can talk my way through an apology without being interrupted.” 

Harry thought for a while, trying to think of such a place. He felt so very good out in the air, which made him want to find another reason to be allowed outside. Seeing as the Headmaster allowed people to leave the castle as long as they stayed in groups, and that the inside of Hogwarts was being protected from Black by the Aurors within it, as well as the Dementors now guarding the outskirts of the school grounds, it should logically be safe to meet in the middle of those very school grounds. 

Harry thought further about a good meeting spot, and realised that close to the Whomping Willow might be a good option. They could of course not meet too close to the willow. It was located far enough from other places that they were likely to be left alone by Weasley’s bullies, yet not far away from the school for them to be able to run for safety should something happen. 

It had taken Black months apart to break into Hogwarts, and he had never been seen on the school grounds. The risk that he would appear there instead of trying to enter Hogwarts through one of the secret tunnels like he had thus forth wasn’t very probable. The Aurors highly suspected that he entered from the Forbidden Forest, as Hogsmeade had been continuously searched without any results. With the Dementors recently stationed close to the Forbidden Forest as well, it truly should be safe upon the school grounds. Harry very much liked the idea of neutral ground which the open school fields offered them. Besides, people had been outside and around the school all year, and nobody had been attacked by either Black or the Dementors. 

“Would you be willing to meet close to the Whomping Willow?” Harry suggested. “We could meet there tomorrow after dinner and just talk, allowing you to apologise properly.” 

“So… soon…” Weasley mumbled. He looked like he might have regretted his choice to apologise, but then shook his head with a determined look on his face. “No, it’s fine. I’m ready.” He assured Harry. “I will be there, and I will apologise. I might come a little later since I will need to get away from my frie- uh… I guess bullies, yes… But I will be there! I promise!” 

Harry felt his face slowly soften into a smile. He nodded, turning his focus back to the Quidditch game to judge if it was over yet. “I believe you. I will talk to my friends about it and make sure that we are all there. At least the four of us.” 

Weasley sighed, looking like a huge burden had been lifted off his shoulders. He too returned his focus to the game, which seemed to be wrapping up. Neither had any idea what team had won the game. “Yeah… I’ll be there.” 

“We will too.” Harry assured him in return.


	20. Chapter 19 - In which Neville Longbottom proves that he is a true Gryffindor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright… yeah…” Weasley took a deep breath. He looked more than a little nervous, his breath leaving him in huffs. Harry imagined that if he listened hard enough, he would be able to hear the boy’s heartbeats. “I’ve… I’ve asked you all to come here so that I can apologise. To you. To all of you.” He took another deep breath. 

It took some convincing on Harry’s part to have his friends agree to meeting Weasley outside. Hermione was eager to try and solve the problem once and for all, believing that him apologising properly was the key to them no longer arguing with one another. Neville was more skeptical, yet he respected Hermione’s desire to accept Weasley's apology, as he strongly believed that she deserved one. Malfoy was the least excited about the prospect of meeting Weasley, but he was far more uncomfortable with the meeting taking place outside. He and Harry discussed back and forth until the son of a werewolf finally admitted to having scheduled the meeting outside because he really needed the air and movement. As Malfoy had seen how much of a positive difference it made to Harry’s mind to no longer be confined to the castle, he finally agreed. 

After having dinner, the group walked out to the meeting spot. Harry adored the feeling of freedom, and the delightful touches of the cold February air. It was beginning to get a little dark as the clouds hung heavy over the sky, yet the son of a werewolf felt happier from just stepping outside. 

The group walked to the Whomping Willow, where they waited for Weasley. As they waited, Neville began speaking about the tree which they were standing next to. 

“See, the fascinating thing is that the Whomping Willows are heavily discussed on the basis of their sentience.” Neville looked up at the tree, smiling at it. “It is at the very least pseudo sentient, as it responds to someone approaching it with violence. However, it is not always aggressive at all times. The tree itself seems to react to cold, which causes an almost sleepy effect to the tree and its ability to react and defend itself. Seeing as it is cold today, it would take the Willow up to a minute to awaken fully and reach the levels of aggressiveness which it naturally displays right away during warmer days.” 

“Do they know why it’s so aggressive in the first place?” Malfoy asked, pushing his gloved hands deep into his pockets. It had rained earlier that day, making the grass under their feet wet and slippery. 

“Well, that is debated too.” Neville scratched the back of his head, looking up at the willow once more. “Some theorise that it was a spell cast once to protect a single willow, perhaps someone hid something within the trunk and wanted to protect it from anyone trying to steal it. Either way, the theory goes that the caster only meant to enchant one single tree, but didn’t realise that the roots were interconnected, causing the spell to spread to every other willow in the vicinity and then continued on.” 

“That sounds like a very mage-like mistake to make…” Malfoy sighed, shaking his head, dreading the generally shown incompetence of his kin. 

“Here comes Weasley.” Harry pointed out. He had been looking towards the castle, waiting for the boy to come out. He waved to him, causing Weasley to come over. “Good evening.” Harry continued, giving the newly arrived a smile. 

The first thing Wealsey did after catching up to them was accidentally sliding straight past them, almost getting within the aggressive reach of Whomping Willow, but he managed to stop himself before that. He turned back to the group, looking somewhat pale over how close he had gotten to sliding into danger. “H-hi… Slippery out here, right?” He mumbled, holding on to the strap of his bag as if it was the only thing which supported him in life. 

“Yeah, slippery.” Neville agreed. 

Hermione looked nervous, she stood right ahead from Weasley, playing with her hands in front of her while trying to find somewhere to look, judging by the way her eyes kept on darting around. Next to her and to her left stood Neville, with Malfoy next to him. Their circle was followed by Weasley, and Harry next to him, placing the son of a werewolf to Hermione’s right. 

“Alright… yeah…” Weasley took a deep breath. He looked more than a little nervous, his breath leaving him in huffs. Harry imagined that if he listened hard enough, he would be able to hear the boy’s heartbeats. “I’ve… I’ve asked you all to come here so that I can apologise. To you. To all of you.” He took another deep breath. 

Harry couldn’t help but admire Weasley at that moment. He didn’t particularly want to, but the fact that the boy had come all alone to apologise to four other people, in a situation where he was extremely defenseless should they agree to attack him with words, was more than a little impressive. The red haired boy had essentially agreed to stand trial, refusing any defense in favor of appearing humble. Even Malfoy hadn’t been able to meet with just Hermione alone to apologise, so for Weasley to do that, not only to one person but four people, was incredibly brave. In an ideal world, he shouldn’t have had to resort to this, yet he had, and that decision deserved to be respected. Despite what Harry had previously felt about Weasley, having him stand before them, true to his word, made Harry decide that he would make sure that this trial was conducted fairly. He would not allow Weasley’s choice to make him the target of a witch hunt. 

“Especially to you, Granger.” Weasley continued, looking at her with a gaze which was full of shame. “...I don’t… know where to start… I guess I just kind of want to say that I’ve been a dingus, and have you all berate me for being one… and then we pretend that it was all my fault and we become friends.” He laughed to himself without any happiness, before shaking his head, steadying himself. “I guess… I had my reasons. I thought that I had the right to a lot of things… and then I didn’t and then… Tom and stuff…” He trailed off. 

“Weasley?” Hermione carefully spoke up, causing him to glance at her like a shameful dog. “Maybe you… want to start that over? You aren’t making a lot of sense.” 

“Yeah, yeah… That is true.” The red haired boy sighed before taking a deeper breath, trying to express himself once more. “See, what I am trying to say is that I thought I was justified in most of the things I did. I thought that Malfoy really was a bullying strop, that Lupin was his little brainless henchman. It was easy to think Longbottom was useless, and that you, Granger, was just full of yourself, thinking you knew everything but… I was wrong. I was so wrong. Because I was that hateful and all that… Tom used me. I think about the things I thought back then when I was the Heir of Slytherin, and the most frightening thing is that I know I believed in the lot of it back then. I do recognise myself. I do understand the way I was feeling. And it frightens me.”

Weasley wasn’t entirely fluent in apologising, but he made himself very understandable despite it. 

“I look back at it, and I know I felt like I was right. I felt entitled to so many things. A lot of it had to do with my family and things like that but… In reality, it wasn’t you. It was never about any of you. I was wrong. I was thinking wrong. I hurt all of you in various ways for the sake of making myself feel better, well, the truth is, I didn’t feel better!” Weasley’s voice was rising now, as he continued on with passion. “I thought I did, I thought it was worth it but look where it got me, I almost became a murderer! My friends have all turned on me, I’m terrified by everything and everyone and my only friend is Scabbers. I’m miserable, because I made myself miserable. And I’m so, so sorry. For everything. If you give me a chance, I will try to make it up to you, even if it takes the rest of my life!” He finished by more or less yelling, looking like he was about to cry. He looked at them with hopeful, shamed and wet eyes, his lower lip trembling as he tried to keep his emotions down. 

Hermione’s eyes were wet as well, she was hiding her mouth behind her hands as tears began to fall down her cheeks. She nodded. “I forgive you.” The girl sobbed, moving forward to hug the boy. He looked more than surprised before hugging her back, continuing to apologise into her shoulder. 

“I… yeah, I forgive you too…” Neville mumbled, clearly overwhelmed by the display of emotions. “You… really don’t have to work your entire life or anything like that, but, uh… I think I can forgive you for what you have done previously, as you really do seem sorry.” 

Malfoy hesitated, he was chewing on his lower lip, appearing to be conflicted. “I believe that actions are worth more than words. That being said, I believe that you have offered a very sincere apology, and if you can be true to your promise, I do not think that it will be hard to forgive your past actions.” 

Hermione carefully parted from the boy, her face still wet with tears but she appeared happier than she had for weeks.

Weasley smiled at her too, wiping his tears away with his sleeve. He took a deep breath, looking around at their faces. “Thank you… I won’t mess this up again. I’ll try my harde-” 

Whatever he had tried to say disappeared in a loud growl which came from behind thr red haired boy. The growl quickly turned into a loud bark before any of them realised the source of the sound. After that, everything happened very fast. Harry barely managed to turn his head towards the sound before a large, black dog leaped at Weasley from behind. Nobody could tell where it had appeared from, it was almost as if it had manifested out of the air. It crashed into Weasley’s legs, biting into one with fierce ferocity and yanked the boy backwards, dragging him towards the Whomping Willow. Harry could hear the sound of something snapping. Judging by Weasley’s sudden scream of pain, following the noise, the beast might have broken his leg. 

As the large canine began to drag him backwards, the boy fell to the ground. The children didn’t have time to react before he was already being dragged off. Hermione recovered first, leaping after Weasley and managed to grab onto his hand. The dog seemed unaware of the fact that it was now dragging two people, the wet grass and the slight slope on top of which the group had been standing seemingly made it easy for the beast to pull both students both with it. It was pulling them straight towards the Whomping Willow, which was starting to wake up. 

“Hermione!” Neville screamed after her, trying to follow them yet they were already by the trunk of the tree. He began moving towards them, but was stopped as the willow slammed a branch down right in front of the boy, causing him to yank himself back as to not get hit. 

The dog reached the trunk, pulling the two children down into a dark hole which hadn’t quite been visible from where they were standing. The beast disappeared first, yanking Weasley with him into what Harry knew to be a hidden tunnel. How could he not have thought of the possibility that Black was using that very tunnel to hide away from the world? He knew that it was there, his dad had told him of it, how could he possibly have failed to consider it as a threat? After the dog and Weasley followed Hermione, more or less falling into the dark hole behind the first two. They heard her scream back to Neville, but if they were words, they didn’t understand any of what she had actually said. She had refused to let go of Weasley’s hand, even when it caused her to be pulled along with him into that dark tunnel. Weasley had likely grabbed her back as well, and with the adrenaline from shock and pain wasn't likely to have let go in return.

“Hermione!” Neville screamed even louder, pulling his wand out of his pocket. 

Harry and Malfoy were both staring in disbelief, struggling to comprehend what had just unfolded. That dog had been Sirius Black, there was no other way around it: it had to be Black. Yet he had attacked Weasley, kidnapping him. Not Harry, not Malfoy, Weasley. Unlike the other times where the red haired boy had been Black's victim, this situation didn’t offer any concrete explanation as to why he had gone for the Gryffindor boy when Harry had been right there. 

“What are you doing?” Malfoy yelled at Neville. “We have to get help, that was Black, don’t even think about going after them alone!” He tried to grab the boy’s arm, trying to hold him back yet Neville pushed him away. 

“Out of my way! My best friend was just taken! I’m not leaving her with that madman!” Neville yelled back, turning towards the Whomping Willow which had begun to almost sleepily hit towards them, warning them to stay away from it. “Immobulus!” He swung his wand towards the tree, freezing its movements in place, making it appear almost docile. Neville ran towards the dark hole. 

“Wait!” Malfoy called. “You can't fight Black, he is a murderer!” 

“Then you get help!” Neville screamed before disappearing into the dark. 

Harry began running after Neville, pulling out his wand as he ran. 

“What are you doing? Lupin, stop!” Malfoy began running after him as well. 

“I know where this tunnel leads! We can’t leave Neville and Hermione to fight Black on their own, if we go together, we might be able to stun him, grab Weasley and run. We’ll need two people to move Weasley at the very least!” Harry called back. He reached the opening to the tunnel and stopped, feeling like he was standing before a gaping mouth which would swallow him up and crush him. 

Malfoy caught up with him. “He’s dangerous!” He tried to reason with Harry, yet the look in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t expecting to reach Harry with logic. 

“I can’t let them get killed! You know I can’t!” Harry turned towards the tunnel and entered it, not stopping to listen to Malfoy’s answer. 

There was a short drop to entering the tunnel, before the earth parted into a cold, long path, which led into utter darkness. Harry felt the cold of the earth bite his face, as if the tunnel truly was trying to swallow him. He heard someone ahead, assuming it to be Neville, he called out to him. “Wait! Neville, listen to my plan.”

Neville seemingly turned, allowing his lit up wand to show where he was. Harry couldn’t see his face, yet he now knew where he was in the tunnel. Perhaps the cold of the earth had helped calm Neville's fiery temper down.

Malfoy landed behind Harry. With a whispered spell, his wand lit up as well. “This is a horrible idea…” He murmured as his best friend pushed forward to catch up with the Gryffindor boy. 

In the tunnel, the faint light from their wands cast grotesque shadows over their faces, making them all appear like twisted reflections of themselves. Neville waited for them, his expression hard and stressed, yet he seemed susceptible to reason, at least on some level. 

“Don’t try to stop me.” Neville all but hissed at them. 

Harry quickly shook his head. “We can’t hope to defeat Black in terms of magic, thus, we’ll use the freezing spell which you just used, all of us at once. If only one of us hits him, that will be enough, if all of us hit him, well… He isn’t likely to die from it, I think. Me and Malfoy will get Weasley and get him out of there, you grab Hermione. This tunnel leads to the Shrieking Shack, it has two floors, the exit is blocked and so are the windows, so we need to get back in the tunnel and run as fast as we can. When we are out, we’ll send out red sparks to call for help while we try to get to the castle.” 

Neville didn’t ask any questions, he simply nodded as another look of fierce determination settled on his face. “Got it.” He began hurrying down the tunnel once more, trying to run but found that the unevenness of the tunnel only allowed for brisk walking. 

Harry followed and after him came Malfoy. Despite not agreeing with being there in the first place, Malfoy had decided to adhere to the plan, surrendering to helping his friends rather than convincing them that they shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. 

The tunnel did not so much end as it stopped. To exit the tunnel, one had to climb out through a trapdoor. There was light coming from it, but it was so weak that the light from their wands made it hard to spot it until they were practically standing by the trap door. Harry noted in the back of his mind that this tunnel and its exit really had been made for a child or teenager. As he knew who that teenager had been, it wasn’t hard to note the surrounding details which made it obvious. 

Neville exited first, looking around before helping Harry up through the trapdoor. Just like the son of a werewolf had said, they found themselves in the Shrieking Shack. It was dark as all the windows were boarded up, yet their eyes adjusted to the darkness fairly easily. Harry didn’t need to strain his ears to hear the noises coming from above them. The large marks in the dust was another hint to where Black and their friends were. 

“Give him to me!” A man’s voice roared from above them, a voice which undoubtedly belonged to Sirius Black. His voice was loud yet sounded strained, giving the impression that he wasn’t used to talking, much less shouting. 

“Stop! Don’t hurt him!” Hermione screamed, followed by the sounds of footsteps and struggling. 

Neville completely forgot the plan, instead dashing away from Harry and Malfoy, running up the stairs to save his friend. 

“She is protecting him from me! I’ll kill him this time!” Black screamed again, he didn’t sound hysterical, but he was close. “Remus, let go of me, why are you protecting him?” 

Harry and Malfoy hurried after Neville, who had reached the top of the stairs. There was another noise and Hermione screamed in pain. The marks on the floor lead to the first room on the second floor. The door had been long since broken, allowing for a somewhat clear view of what was happening inside the room. Neville ran inside, disappearing from Harry’s field of view. 

“Stop! Don’t hurt her!” Neville called, seemingly towards Black. 

Harry and Malfoy reached the top of the stairs, which made them able to fully observe the scene within the room. Black was the first thing visible, he wasn’t standing in the door as much as he had aligned himself with the door so that he could stop anyone who tried to run towards it. Weasley had been thrown into the far corner of the room, trapped between Black and a wall with no hopes of reaching the exit with his broken leg. He seemed in pain and barely coherent where he was curled up on the floor, with Hermione next to him. Judging by the footprints in the dust, she had been pushed into the same end of the room as Weasley by the man after struggling with him in the middle of the room. Neville had upon arrival thrown himself between the prisoner of Azkaban and his two victims, trying to keep Black away by threatening him with his wand. Yet his hand was trembling, his expression determined but frightened. 

To the children’s shock, Black began to laugh. Harry couldn’t think of anything other action which he could take than stare at the man. He appeared much like his photograph had in the newspaper, yet he was even thinner than the picture had shown. His hair and beard had both grown longer and wilder, he seemed like he hadn’t bathed in a long time. Even from afar, there was a strange scent coming from him, sweat and dirt mixing together in a smell which resembled decay. His hands seemed too big for the rest of his body, bony, yet large. In one of those large hands, he was holding a wand which appeared far too small for him. The pale color of the wood gave it away as Hermione’s. 

“Are you playing the hero again? Protecting her? You’ve never protected anything in your entire selfish, struggling little life!” The prisoner barked at Neville, beginning to walk towards him, holding the wand almost casually in his hand, as if he had no intention of using it. The expression on Black’s face twisted into a dark look of hatred which only served to make his dark eyes come alive with madness. 

Neville trembled worse the closer Black came. 

“What gives you the right to protect her after you hurt her so? You traitorous snake.” The coarse, rough voice turned soft, whispering as if he was pretending that he was addressing a beloved person, although his words were undoubtedly meant to wound. Nobody knew what the man was talking about, although Neville was clearly affected by the adult’s insults. 

“Don’t touch him!” Harry yelled, only managing to collect himself as he saw Black begin to reach out towards Neville. He was scared of Black, so very scared that his boggart had taken the form of the man, and yet, to be in the same room as him was somehow less frightening than the idea of not knowing where the danger was. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the awareness of the man’s location. Nonetheless, Harry had spoken up to protect his friend, calling Black’s attention towards him. 

The prisoner of Azkaban turned around, his expression dark and his eyes mad, yet when his gaze found Harry, it softened. The man almost seemed to relax, his arms falling to his sides before a look of disbelief, pain and gentleness spread over his face. He began to walk towards Harry, looking at him with a terrifying expression of loneliness, regret and desire. He lifted his arms, approaching a terrified Harry who found himself frozen in place, reaching towards the boy’s face. The wand was completely forgotten in his hand, it was as if Black could see nothing else but Harry. The man was so close that Harry could feel the suffocating scent of decay coming from him, could see himself reflected in the dark eyes of the man. Black reached for his face, completely unaware of the wand which Harry was aiming towards him. 

“Expelliarmus!” The wand flew out of Black’s hand, causing the man to stumble back and away from Harry. Malfoy was suddenly by Harry’s side, yanking him back from Black. “Don’t touch him, you monster!”

Black stared at him in return, his dark eyes reflecting Malfoy’s pale hair as a frown began to form on his face. He leaned his head to the side like a confused dog, taking a few steps back into the room, moving towards the other end compared to where his victims were. 

“Nessie?” Black asked, looking beyond bewildered. He was holding his hands in front of himself now, as if he didn’t know what to do with his limbs. It was easy to see why his animagus form was that of a dog, even his body language was comparatively animalistic, yet that might be a side effect from having likely been transformed for many months on end. “But you are… how can you be…?”

Malfoy stared at the man in return, Harry couldn’t see his expression but he knew his best friend enough to know that he had understood something. 

“You think… I’m my mother?” Malfoy asked Black, he didn’t lower his wand, yet the grip was no longer causing his fingers to turn white. 

“You’re not… Nessie?” Black’s eyes searched Malfoy’s face for the truth. 

“I’m her son.” Malfoy spoke with authority. “I don’t know for certain who you think you are seeing, but this isn’t James Potter, it’s his son, Harry Lupin.” Malfoy gestured towards Harry. “You killed Potter, if you don’t remember.” The last words were harsh and perhaps even cruel.

Malfoy’s words helped Harry understand as well. 

That explained why Black was looking at Harry like he was, he couldn’t distinguish Harry from his biological father. Black had yelled ‘Remus’ before, yet his father was very clearly not in the room and hadn’t been here for years. He wasn’t seeing Malfoy but his mother, Narcissa Malfoy. The insane prisoner from Azkaban wasn’t seeing them, but projected the faces of others onto the children. Most likely people he had known when he was younger.

Whoever Black saw Neville as, it was beyond doubt a person he loathed. It made sense that his words were incomprehensible to them as they weren’t meant for them, but for whoever Black envisioned Neville as. 

Black glanced between them, frowning once more like a confused dog. “...I don’t deny killing him… It is all my fault...” He whispered. 

There was a loud noise from below, startling everyone. Heavy footsteps came running up the stairs, Harry began to turn around but before he made it all the way, he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder as his dad pushed past him and Malfoy, closely followed by Professor Snape. Remus stepped in front of Black, protecting the two Slytherin students, while Snape swept into the room, positioning himself in front of the Gryffindor students. 

Black almost snarled as he stepped back, looking between the men with a frightened expression, like a cornered animal. It seemed liked he was about to transform, perhaps even try to attack Remus with his bare hands. 

“Sirius…” Remus carefully approached him, keeping his wand lowered yet ready. He was so much taller than the frail, starved man that Black posed little threat to his larger body, the Professor could afford to lower his wand. “It’s me, Remus. You know me. I won’t hurt you.” His voice was subtle and gentle, calmly coaxing the other man into relaxing. 

Black blinked, slowly straightening up. His expression became similar to the expression which he had showed when he had thought Harry to be his biological father. He looked guilty, yet frightened and still hopeful. 

“Remus?” Black whispered, his whisper filling the otherwise silent room.


	21. Chapter 20 - In which the prisoner from Azkaban laughs a lot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Peter Pettigrew is alive! I knew from the second I saw him, his disgusting little form. I smell him! He’s hiding in that bag right there!” The prisoner pointed a finger towards Weasley once more, acting as if he was about to take a step forward but Remus stopped him, physically holding him back. 
> 
> “Peter is dead. He died twelve years ago, you killed him, Sirius.” He didn’t sound accusing as much as he sounded factual, wrestling to hold the starved yet clearly spirited man back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warnings:**  
>  This chapter contains a few gruesome descriptions of injuries, minor disfigurement, as well as the mental damage in Sirius after twelve years in Azkaban. The story takes into consideration the state of mind required to live for vengeance, as well as his general reckless tendencies. There will be mentions of suicidal thoughts.

“Remus!” The dirty man’s face lit up with happiness and recognition before he more or less stormed forward, half falling, half throwing himself into the man’s arms, clinging to him as tears started to roll down his dirty face, leaving streaks in the grime. 

Harry’s dad looked surprised, before he embraced the man back, stroking over the dirty hair as a gentle expression formed on his face. He held the dirty, starved man in his arms, making Black appear like a small teenager next to the far larger man. “It’s alright… I’m here.” 

Black sobbed, pulling away from him as he grabbed Remus’ arms, staring at him with madness and purpose. “He’s here, Remus, in this room, right here, we have to kill him! Help me kill him, she is protecting him!” 

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” The werewolf continued to speak to him gently, trying to calm the other man down by touching him, carefully trying to pull the insane man to the side, away from the children. “We are not killing anyone. I have questions for you, there are things you need to tell me… Alright?” 

“Peter is alive!” Black roared, pointing towards the corner where Professor Snape was protecting the Gryffindor students from him. “He’s right in this room, hiding over there!” 

“He’s insane.” Malfoy spoke up. “He can’t see people, he thinks I’m my mother and Lupin is James Potter. He doesn’t know what he is talking about.” 

“Yes, he called me by your name, Professor.” Hermione agreed where she sat curled up next to Weasley, who barely seemed conscious at that point. “And he thinks Weasley is a woman, he doesn’t make any sense.” 

Black snarled at her, causing the girl to jerk back. “Peter Pettigrew is alive! I knew from the second I saw him, his disgusting little form. I smell him! He’s hiding in that bag right there!” The prisoner pointed a finger towards Weasley once more, acting as if he was about to take a step forward but Remus stopped him, physically holding him back. 

“Peter is dead. He died twelve years ago. You killed him, Sirius.” He didn’t sound accusing as much as he sounded factual, wrestling to hold the starved yet clearly spirited man back. 

“I would have died laughing had I killed that chirping little freak!” Black howled, clawing towards Snape who was still positioned before the children, as the small man was more or less lifted up by the larger werewolf. “Then he would have paid for his crimes with his life, yet he lives! He still lives, the rat, Remus, that rat is Peter! She is hiding him in her bag!” 

Remus pulled him back. “No he isn’t. He is dead!” The strain of holding Black back made it harder for him to speak. 

“Cast the spell then! It will show you, that freak is the rat! He’s been hiding out as a pet for twelve years!” The prisoner from Azkaban belted on. 

“Remus.” Snape’s calm, dry voice called for both men’s attention, cutting through their bickering like a sharp sword. “Cast the spell on the rat.” Harry had never seen the Potions Master look so very tense or urgent before. He seemed to know something they didn’t.

“But…” The werewolf objected before he met the other man’s gaze, realising that his fellow Professor wouldn’t accept a refusal. He nodded, letting go of Black who had calmed down upon being promised that his old friend would do what he wanted him to do. 

Remus stepped away from Black, telling Harry and Malfoy to step to the side by softly directing them to the right. The children obeyed, stepping out of the room while still looking inside. Snape, in turn, stepped forward, keeping his wand aimed at Black while the werewolf knelt next to Weasley, who clung to his bag with tears rolling down his face. 

“No.” Weasley sobbed. “Don’t hurt Scabbers, please… He’ll kill my rat, don’t give him to him.” 

Remus' expression was soft as he reached for the bag, stopping upon realising how much the boy cared for his rat. “Nothing will happen to your rat if he is just a normal rat. I won’t let Sirius hurt him.”

“You’re calling him by first name.” Hermione whimpered, she was crying as well, although not as much as Weasley was. “How can we trust your words?” 

“Because I’m a father. I won’t let Sirius hurt any of you, I wouldn’t do that to your parents, or you. Severus is here as well, if you don’t trust me, then trust him. He has been your teacher for longer than I and saved you more times than I have.” He was referring to coming after Harry, Malfoy and Neville the year before, assuming that at least Hermione knew what he was speaking of. He reached towards the bag. “Please, Mr. Weasley?”

“Don’t hurt him, please.” Weasley whispered as he slowly handed the bag over, still sobbing. “He’s old and frail.” 

“Thank you.” Remus smiled at him as he accepted the bag, making sure to keep it closed with his hands so as to not let the rat escape. “Please remain strong for the moment.” He mumbled, clearly wishing that there was something more he could do for the boy than tell him to remain strong.

Meanwhile, Black had a realisation upon looking at the tall, dark man who was pointing his wand at him. He began to laugh, a crooked grin spreading over his face. The laugher might once have been pleasant, yet he laughed as if he had no control over his emotions or the volume of the laughter, making it appear deranged and psychotic. “It’s you. You even have the same hair, still neglect to wash it?” Black grinned. 

Snape paid him little mind. “You’ve become more deranged than ever. Do be silent, you are frightening the children.” 

Black glanced towards Harry and Malfoy, before letting out a low grunt. He crossed his thin arms over his chest, huffing. When speaking to the Potions Master, he seemed more coherent than when yelling about the rat being a dead person. “Why are you on my side? We’ve never agreed on anything. Don’t think that this will change anything between us, Snivellus.” 

“I didn’t think it would. You are too mad for logic, you always were.” Snape’s voice was calm and cold, his grip on his wand never wavering. 

Black cackled. “Always sticking your huge nose where it doesn’t belong. I won’t thank you.” It was as if he was answering a different conversation than replying to that which the Potion Master was saying. 

“The words of a psychopath truly aren’t worth listening to.” Snape all but sighed, his gaze hinting on darker, negative emotions towards Black. “Still your madness and remain civil this once, will you.” 

“Twelve years in Azkaban makes it hard to remain civil you disgusting Death Eater! You’ve never served for your crimes, you just hid away and pretended to have been on our side all along!” Black suddenly roared, stomping towards the man with his fists raised, as if he was about to jump on Snape and try to physically hurt him. 

Remus returned, grabbing Sirius before the man managed to reach the Potions Professor, separating them. Next to Harry, Malfoy tensed at the mention of Death Eaters. Everyone in the room was uncomfortable with the supposed Death Eater Sirius Black claiming Professor Snape to be one. Equally, nobody was sure if the prisoner was claiming Snape to have betrayed the Death Eaters or those who fought against the Dark Lord. 

“If you keep on behaving like this I won’t listen to a word you say and I will not give you this rat.” Remus growled at Black, baring his teeth in an animalistic expression. “If you never behaved once in your life, behave now for the sake of the children.” 

Harry saw how Black glanced at him before curling together, seemingly deciding that he was going to behave. He tucked his hands into his pockets, avoiding everyone’s gaze like a misbehaving, ashamed dog. 

“Good.” Remus readied his wand and prepared to open the bag. As he did, the rat darted out, bolting the opposite direction from where Weasley, Hermione and Neville sat. Black reacted as if he was going to jump after it, yet Remus swung his wand towards the rat, wordlessly using the spell which returned animagi to their human shapes, while expecting no results. 

The rat’s scream was the first thing which changed, becoming more and more human as the rat’s body grew with alarming speed. For a few seconds, everyone in the room stood silent, staring at the gruesome transformation where the little furry body grew into the shape of a man. The small hands of the rat’s grew into a man's, his face shrinking, growing, shifting from being soft and round to more pointy and less hairy. One of those hands missed a finger, which became obvious as the man moved his hands in front of him to protect himself, thus revealing his deformation. 

Peter Pettigrew was a small man with a somewhat prominent overbite. His hair was thin and the same color as that of Scabber’s fur, his eyes were surprisingly big and brown while most of his other features were round. His clothes were far too big for his thin body, which made Harry recall that Weasley had claimed Scabbers to have been fat but had lost a lot of weight. He didn’t appear as thin as Black, but it was clear that something had caused a rapid and unhealthy weight loss. 

Remus stared, his mouth falling open as Black hollered with mad laughter. Weasley looked like he was about to faint, like his rat turning into a man was the final thing to ultimately break his mind, overloading him to the point of him nearly passing out. Everyone else stared in silent shock at the man. Snape’s lips became thin with determination as he aimed his wand towards the former rat. Pettigrew’s body was pushed back against the wall with a loud thud, an invisible force was keeping him there, his arms stuck to his sides. 

“Peter…” Remus breathed, staring at the man with utter disbelief in his eyes. “You… you are alive?” 

The rat like man twisted in his invisible bonds, trembling as he was addressed. Slowly, he opened his mouth, trying to speak yet all that left his lips was weak stuttering. He licked his lips and tried again. “H-h-hello… Rem… Remus.” His voice was strange, reminding of the chirping of a rat rather than human language. 

“I thought… You were dead.” The werewolf sounded accusing now, his voice beginning to turn into a growl. “You’ve been here all along and you never thought to speak to me?” 

“I’m… I’m sorry, Remus, please, this isn’t what it looks like… Or, well, a little but, please! Listen to me! I didn’t mean to!” Pettegrew tried to speak yet he was silenced by another roar from Black, who stormed over and grabbed him by the far too big and open collar. 

“You didn’t mean to!” Black screamed in his face, causing the man to cry, big tears rolled down his cheeks as his small body shook with sobs. Harry noticed that Black was shorter than this man as well, despite how small Pettigrew initially had seemed. “How dare you stand before me, yet again claiming to be innocent! I’ll kill you this time, I’ll rip your heart from your body and watch you-” 

“Remus! Help! Help!” The former rat sobbed, begging the werewolf to save him. 

Remus didn’t move, he remained standing where he was, looking at Pettigrew with a dark gaze. Harry had never seen his dad show an expression like that. It was so far away from everything he knew his dad to be that he couldn’t stand to watch in silence any longer. 

“Dad!” Harry called, causing silence to fall over the scene as if he had cast a spell. Everyone turned to look towards him as he took a few steps forward into the room, trying very hard to not lose heart as every pair of eyes in the room turned towards him. “I do not understand what is happening, I want to hear him out. I want to hear both their stories.” 

Black growled, letting go of the former rat and turned towards Harry. “Harry, this wretch is to blame for the death of your parents, he betrayed them to Voldemort and got them killed!” 

“No, no! I didn’t! I didn’t mean to, Sirius, please!” Pettigrew sobbed, pulling on the invisible strains as he tried to make himself heard. 

“I haven’t given you permission to use my name.” Harry forcefully retorted towards the escaped prisoner. He felt himself tremble as he stood up to the man, who was only about a head taller than him despite being twice his age. It was the first time Harry realised that adults weren’t always as impossibly large as his dad was. 

Black looked surprised at his words before he made an angry noise and stomped off into the room once more, walking over to the place close to Snape where he had originally started from. 

Remus gave his son a pained smile, nodding towards him. Harry’s words had helped him collect himself. “You are right… Sirius, Peter, please. We need to know your respective stories. I’ll have you both know that Severus is a Legilimens, there will be no point in lying to him.” 

The Potions Master straightened up somewhat, looking between the two men. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to have his condition revealed in that manner, yet as it had already happened, he made certain to show no weakness. “Pettigrew, if I hear any thoughts in regards to transforming and escaping, you will be made unconscious by means of magic and lose your right to tell your part of the story. Do I make myself understood?” Snape's final words weren't a question. “As for Black, any violence towards anyone in the room, including the rat, and you will be completely restrained.”

“U-understo-o-od.” The former rat agreed and was released from his bounds, allowed to stand on his own. He quickly moved his hands in front of him, whimpering subtly to himself as he twisted them. The nails on his hands were long and yellow, looking very much like a mutation caused by remaining a rat for so long. 

“Fine.” Black growled in return. “I will start.” He looked around at the people in the room before leaning back against the wall, looking solemn but somewhat bitter still. He clearly wanted to rip Pettigrew to pieces rather than stand around talking. “James and Lily were scared for the safety of their child so they decided to go into hiding.” Black began. “They purchased a new house to which they would be moving. Then they hid with a powerful Concealment Charm. Added to that, they decided to keep the location secret by casting the Fidelius Charm to further protect themselves and their baby. After tha-”

“Excuse me...Uh, Mr. Black? What is the Fidelius Charm?” Hermione carefully asked, raising her hand to try and get the prisoner’s attention. 

“Have you forgotten what that is, Remus?” The starved man grinned at her as if they had known each other for a long time, his expression mocking yet not cruel. 

“I’m not…” Hermione tried to correct him but Black continued on. Remus subtly clicked his tongue, appearing to be someone uncomfortable with his old friend thinking that one of his students was him. 

“The Concealment Charm was so powerful that the house was completely hidden behind a type of magic field. It works on tricking the mind, even if you see the location, your mind doesn’t register that you’ve seen it. If you wander too close to the house, you would find yourself turned around, never even realising that you had tried to approach it in the first place. The only way to break through a Concealment Charm is to know the password which will let you through the field. It isn’t enough to just speak the password, you need to speak it while activating or wielding your internal magic. The field which conceals the object, in this case house, reacts to the password and magic in tandem, allowing a person to pass through. Any external magic used when speaking the password will be registered as an outside force seeking to break the Concealment and the person won’t be allowed through. Just the password won’t open the field, just internal magic won’t open the field, and external magic is seen as an attack. It only opens for the password and inner magic, are you all following me?” He looked at Hermione. Harry couldn’t help but think that Black sounded like he would have made a rather good teacher if he hadn’t been so short tempered as well as deranged. 

She nodded. “Yet that doesn’t explain what the Fidelius Charm is.” 

“The password was kept secret by the implementation of the Fidelius Charm. It is technically a ritual, not a charm, but the rules of naming were only begging to be broken the day that ritual was named, I guess.” Black shrugged. “It is cast to keep a secret within a person’s soul. No magic can be used to rip the secret from that person, it can only be given willingly by the Secret Keeper. When another person outside of the Secret Keeper has been told the secret, they are bound by no rules whatsoever and can do what their dark little hearts want with it. We were hiding the password through that ritual, or charm. Whatever you wanna call it.”

“I wasn’t there.” Remus confessed in a subtle voice. “It was supposed to be only you, James and Lily there. Me and Peter weren’t supposed to know the password, we all concluded that it was what was best for everyone. You were supposed to be their Secret Keeper, wasn’t that right, Sirius?” 

“That was how it was supposed to be!” Pettigrew’s shrill voice rose from the place where he had been patiently standing by the wall, twisting his hands while listening to Sirius talk. “It was supposed to be you. It should have been you, I wanted no part of it!” He probably didn’t mean to scream, yet his panic was making him slightly hysterical. 

“Shut your wretched mouth and wait for your turn, traitor!” Black yelled back but calmed down after a stern look from Snape, alongside a movement from the man’s wand.

“You mean… Peter was made the Secret Keeper instead of you?” Remus concluded, looking between his former friends. 

“Yes, yes I was.” The former rat confessed, his eyes overflowing with tears once more. “At the night of the ritual, he came to me and dragged me to the Potters' past home, claiming that I would be the Secret Keeper instead of him. I tried to resist him, I tried to tell him I didn’t want to but he convinced me that I had to for the sake of James and Lily and Harry.” He accidentally used the boy’s name, threw a quick, excusing glance at the child. “Sorry. Lupin. I didn’t want to and he made me.” 

“Liar! You were eager to take my place as the Secret Keeper.” The prisoner growled at the other man. 

“I was terrified!” The former rat objected. 

“Both of you, quiet.” Remus spoke up, silencing them both as he turned towards the Legilimens. “Which one is telling the truth?” 

Snape looked between the two men, remaining silent for a while before speaking up. “Black isn’t lying per say, but he doesn’t remember that night very clearly. Pettigrew remembers it with painful clarity, as he has a lot of regrets connected to that night. None of them believes that they are lying, yet Pettigrew seems to recall the evening while Black’s memory is barely a memory, but fragments.” 

Black growled. “So my memory might not be perfect after twelve stinking years in Azkaban, but that doesn’t change the fact that he betrayed them to Voldemort.” The prisoner continued. “I bet he was waiting his entire pathetic life for the chance to finally do something. Oh, it must have been the proudest moment of your life when you approached Voldemort and said that you could lead him straight to the Potters, right Wormtail?” Black spit in Pettigrew’s direction. 

Harry couldn’t help but notice that Black was using the Dark Lord’s name without any hesitation, wielding it like a weapon while Pettigrew covered like a whipped animal from the use of the name. 

“You don’t understand Sirius, not everyone is as brave as you.” Pettigrew objected. 

“Peter.” Remus spoke, making the former rat turn towards him. “Rather than arguing with Sirius, tell us your side of the story up to the point of you becoming the Secret Keeper.” 

The rat-like man nodded, twisting his hands again. “Sirius came to me and demanded that I become the Secret Keeper for James' and Lily’s password. I didn’t want to, but he forced me, gave me no choice until I gave in and did what he wanted. You know how forceful he can be, you know what' he's like, I’ve never been able to say no to him…” The man admitted with an ashamed look as he glanced to the side, his nose twitching like that of a rat. 

Both Remus and Snape exchanged looks, appearing to believe in at least that part of his story. 

“So I participated in the ritual, I was entrusted with the password and Sirius explained how he would go on the run. How everyone would think that he was the Secret Keeper and how they would chase him down and try to get the information out of him. He told me I was safe, that nobody would suspect worthless little Peter to be entrusted with something so very important.” The former rat continued. “Yet what awaited me when I came home again…” Pettigrew choked, his eyes turning wet with tears once more. 

He looked towards Remus with an honest, frightened look on his face. “Death Eaters.” He whispered.

Harry could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end and he shuddered.

“So many of them. They knew I was part of the Order of the Phoenix, they knew I had left my home that evening alongside Sirius. They had figured out that the Potters were moving and then… They came for me. They thought that I knew where Sirius was going to hide. They planned on finding him and hurt him for the password.” He stared down at his own shaking hands, more specifically, looking at his missing finger. “Mages so often forget that there are other methods to hurt a person than just through magic. The Dark Lord has other methods. You don’t understand his power.” He hugged his hands to his chest, biting his own lower lip. “I didn’t want them to hurt me, I didn’t want them to hurt Sirius… I didn’t want that, I was so scared…” Pettigrew continued speaking. He was whimpering and shaking, yet he continued on. “So I… I told them. I gave them the location in return for not harming me o-or Sirius…” 

Black roared, storming forward and grabbed the former rat around the throat, physically choking him. In doing so, he knocked them both to the floor, making it impossible for Snape to use magic on him in that instant as they both tumbled around. “You think I wanted to live on behalf of James’ life! You think I wanted to be saved on the cost of him dying? You sold them out to protect yourself, don’t you dare claim you tried to protect me too you wretched freak!” He yelled at the other man as they came to a halt on the floor.

Pettigrew tried to push him away, scratching at the hands which were choking him. He was crying again. “Siri-” the grip tightened, not allowing him to speak any further. 

“You should have died for him!” Sirius screamed.

He didn’t scream ‘them,’ he screamed ‘him,’ referring to James alone. Right in that moment, Harry truly understood what his dad had meant with the man’s obsession with James Potter.

Remus was by them, yanking the smaller man away from the rat as Pettigrew scooted away from Black, grabbing his own throat as he coughed. 

“I knew you’d say that!” The former rat managed to half speak, half cough out an answer. “Not everyone is prepared to die for the sake of their friends! None of you ever treated me like anything but a burden, that includes you, Remus!” He stared accusingly at them both. “You were always hurting me throughout all our time together, and you, Sirius, expect me to die because of your love for James? You’re unreasonable, you’ve always been unreasonable!” The man hid his face in his hands, shaking his head as he broke down crying. 

Remus let go of Black, who was promptly grabbed by Snape and physically forced against the wall before he was locked up by the same invisible magic force which had previously bound Pettigrew. Black growled like an animal but wasn’t able to do anything about it, as Professor Snape kept his promise of locking him up if he turned aggressive. 

The children weren’t doing especially well. Weasley was still on the verge of fainting where he laid resting against Hermione. Hermione’s face was wet with tears and she was trembling, clinging to the body in her lap as if it was the only thing keeping her sane. Neville has positioned himself in front of both other Gryffindors, yet he was trembling as well. Malfoy had remained by the door, his already pale face having turned into a shade of white. He looked like he was feeling ill and wanted nothing more than to leave, yet he pushed all those feelings back to try and appear to have even a semblance of control over his emotions. 

Harry wasn’t sure what he was feeling, he felt like he was watching something he wasn’t supposed to see. Both the crying man and the screaming man had been deeply hurt by the world, and no matter how hard they tried, their attempts at communicating only resulted in more pain. 

Remus swallowed, looking down at the former rat with clear guilt in his eyes. “...You are right. We weren’t treating you right back then. I wasn’t treating you right. If… We had been better friends, perhaps none of this would have happened…”

The idea of his dad not being the supportive, kind and always understanding man which Harry knew so well was almost impossible to imagine. Harry could recall that his dad wasn’t proud of who he had been back when he was attending school. Remus had admitted to having a lot of guilt in regards to never having been able to stop the bullying which Black had inflicted on Snape, yet he hadn’t really talked about Pettigrew. Judging from his confession, Pettigrew might have been in a very similar position to Weasley, where he had no other choice but to remain with people who weren’t acting like real friends, instead only kept the boy around for other purposes. 

“I’m sorry, Peter.” Remus admitted, causing the former rat to lift his head, looking hopeful yet pained. 

“Do you… mean it?” Pettigrew licked his lips, looking up at the werewolf with pleading eyes. 

“I am, but that does not mean I believe in your innocence yet. You did betray James and Lily, and I’m having trouble believing that an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat.” Remus carefully reached down to help the former rat stand. 

Pettigrew gave him his right hand, allowing the werewolf to pull him up. The man licked his lips, avoiding to look at the taller man. 

“He killed twelve Muggles, alongside initiating the murder of the Potters.” Black seemed to have calmed down enough to be able to speak once more, a twisted grin spreading over his lips as he aimed another accusation at the rat-like man. 

Pettigrew flinched, taking a step back from the werewolf, yet stopped when Snape pointed his wand at him. The man swallowed, continuing to twist his hands in front of himself. “I didn’t mean to…” 

“There are a lot of things you didn’t mean to, Peter.” Remus looked at him with stern eyes. “Tell the truth. Severus will know if you lie.” 

The former rat glanced towards the Potions Master before cowering again. However, he did continue to speak. “I realised that Sirius would come after me a-after what I had done… I was terrified. So I ran. Yet he showed up and gave chase, as if he had known exactly what I was going to do.” 

“As if your feeble little brain can think of anywhere to hide from me.” Black growled. 

Pettigrew chewed on his lower lip, curling together. “He cornered me… I’ve never seen him like that… I knew that he wouldn’t kill me, he would rip me to shreds and delight in every second of my suffering.” 

“Don’t answer that.” Snape ordered Black, who slowly shut his mouth again, looking disappointed over having been silenced. 

“I blew up the street in front of me, making it seem like I had blown myself up in incompetence, while trying to defend myself from him. I cut off my finger in the smoke and dived into the open hole in the street as a rat, running for my life to get as far away from there as possible. The last thing I heard was another explosion, followed by the sound of his laughter.” Pettigrew pointed at Black who grinned at the memory. 

“The real tragedy here is that you were always so utterly incompetent that I truly believed that you had blown yourself to pieces.” Black chuckled to himself, but stopped when Snape glanced down at him. 

“I only learnt what had happened later. My spell had hit a Muggle gas pipe which led up into the building next to us. It triggered another explosion, k-k-killing a-all t-those…” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence, instead succumbing to his stuttering. “I never wanted to hurt any Muggles… I never wanted to get anyone killed… I just wanted to live.” Pettigrew pleaded with Remus, who glanced behind himself towards Snape. 

“He is telling the truth. He did not mean to kill those Muggles. At least that is true. There are a lot of emotions clouding his thoughts in regards to many other things he has said, but once again, he isn’t explicitly lying.” The Legilimens concluded. 

“How did you end up with the Weasley family?” Remus turned back to the former rat, who tensed up at the question. 

Pettigrew glanced at Weasley before very quickly looking away, his cheeks heating with shame. “I ran and ran… I wanted to go to you, Remus, but I wasn’t sure how you would react to me being forced to betray the Potters.” Black growled at the suggestion that Pettigrew hadn’t betrayed them willingly. “I planned on leaving Britain, maybe jump on a ship and leave. I was so hungry and tired, and I felt the scent of food. I… walked straight into a rat trap.”

Black burst out laughing, another mad, howling laughter which took nobody’s comfort into consideration. He seemed to find the notion of an animagus being trapped in a cage designed for animals beyond hilarious. 

The former rat sighed, seeming to silently agree with Black that it was very embarrassing of him to have been caught in a normal rat trap. “The per-, uh, boy who caught me was named Percy Weasley and he really wanted a pet rat. I tried to escape from him many times but he always caught me again and put me back in his cage. He fed me and talked to me, and after a while I… I became a rat. I forgot that I had ever been a human. Every day it was harder and harder to recall ever being a person, as I was trapped in that rat cage for months on end. I don’t know when, but I became Scabbers, just a normal rat who seems to have lived far longer than I was expecting to…” He trailed off. 

Once again, Professor Snape was reading his thoughts. “He speaks the truth.” The man sounded surprised as he spoke. The idea of an animagus losing their mind in their animal shape wasn’t unheard of, yet to have it proven by looking into the head of one such animagus evidently surprised the Potions Master. 

Remus turned back to Black, although he pushed Pettigrew in front of himself so as to not turn his back towards Pettigrew, thus inviting the cowardly man to try and flee. “Then it’s your turn again Sirius. How did you break out of Azkaban and how did you know Peter was alive?”

Black licked his lips. “I saw him in _The Daily Prophet_. That’s about the one connection we have with the outside world in Azkaban. I had no reason to struggle back when I was arrested, I didn’t care about the world and I didn’t care about what it said of me. James was dead, I was hoping that they would just give me a Dementor’s kiss so that I wouldn’t have to ever think about anything again.” 

Harry felt very uncomfortable with the man blatantly stating how suicidal he had been after the death of his best friend, whom he might have loved as more than a friend. 

Still, Black continued. “They threw me in Azkaban and all but forgot about me. Then one day comes the newspaper, telling me about Arthur Weasley’s new law being passed. And there, on the very first page, I see Peter, on that boy’s shoulder.” He nodded towards Weasley, who clearly didn’t want Black to acknowledge him. “Look at me, I was so starved that I could push myself out between the bars, after dislocating some bones and limbs and such.” 

The children shuddered at his description, as did Pettigrew. When he wasn’t speaking about magic, Black really wasn’t very eloquent in his way of speaking. 

“I sneaked past the Dementors in the shape of Padfoot. That’s the dog. We call the dog Padfoot.” He nodded towards Remus who in turn confirmed his words with a nod of his own. “Then I swam to the shore. I didn’t make it very far before my body gave it and I passed out in the middle of the sea. By some miracle brought about by the Goddess of Vengeance or something, I washed up on the shore. I proceeded to eat every single bird and egg I could find on that shore, still as Padfoot. I think I became feral for a while, but I did manage to regain my mind. Maybe I really am beloved by the Goddess of Vengeance…” He let his words trail off as he thought about it. 

“Why didn’t the Dementors make you go crazy?” Neville carefully asked. “I mean… I guess you are… kind of… How come they didn’t take away your will to live?” 

Black laughed loudly again, only stopping when he began to cough from overexerting himself. “Great one, Snivvy.” He chuckled, his eyes wet from having laughed and coughed himself to tears. “You think that puny fake sadness that the Dementors poisoned you with is anything compared to real despair? Sure, they wanted me, they wanted to kiss me very badly, but at that point I was mostly staying alive out of spite. See, I wasn’t actually given a life sentence. Only twenty years. Most die or go insane after a few, so I remained alive for the sake of seeing what the world would do to me if I actually managed to hold on for twenty.” He shrugged. “Although I guess I’ll really be kissed if they catch me again… Still, it would be worth it if I could complete my vengeance.” 

Snape glanced towards Remus. “There is in fact a law that makes it impossible to keep a mage in the company of Dementors for longer than twenty years. It was a law established to try and regulate the cruelty of Azkaban and its guards. However, few people survive that long, meaning that a sentence of twenty years in Azkaban is essentially a life sentence, thus the general misconception that a person can be locked up for life.” He explained to the people gathered. 

“I made it to the place where the Weasleys live, but I forgot myself again and became a hungry animal. I remembered that I had something to do there, but I couldn’t remember what. Thus, I ate some of their vegetables and went to sleep in the fields. When I remembered who I was, I went back to kill him, but the kids had already left for Hogwarts. Thus I began my long way there. I went insane a couple of times, but I did make it, arriving around Halloween, I think?” He looked around at the two Professors for confirmation. 

Remus stopped him. “You don’t have to explain everything in detail, but can you confirm that you continued to move in and out of consciousness during the year?” 

“Yeah. I lived most of the year in the forest, trying to find ways inside Hogwarts when I could remember what I was trying to accomplish.” Black summarised. 

The group exchanged glances, everyone had the feeling that it was time to try and reach a decision over what they should do next, yet nobody wanted to be the one to speak first. Even Black and Pettigrew exchanged a quick glance before looking away from one another again, both feeling the weight of their respective judgement hanging heavy above their heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \--- Facts & Headcanons ---  
>  **Concealment Charm**  
>  As mentioned by the beginning of this story, the Fidelius Charm effects has been split into separate spells. Sirius explains the details. 
> 
> The furthermost reason for this kind of change to the concealment is because we don't want to jump into the can of worms which would be pocket dimensions and the breakage of time-space with magic. Physical space and matter does not truly allow for places to just physically vanish, but allows for them to be concealed or moved at rapid speeds.
> 
> A note to make is that the Concealment Charm is a kind of ward which can be broken from the inside, which is what Voldemort and his Death Eaters did upon attacking the Potters. Leaving the concealment and therefore hiding the deaths isn't Voldemort's usual trademark, instead he prefers making a statement of his power. 
> 
> **Peter's physical appearance**  
>  It might be noticeable that Peter Pettigrew does not look at all like the movie version in the canon, and neither completely like the described book version of Rowling's canon. 
> 
> He is based on the book canon, but instead of gathering undesirable traits for the sake of him appearing pathetic and evil, our appearance of him is entirely based on vague rat-like features. The idea of him balding, for one, makes little to no sense as it's a physical progression which would be halted for the years he remained a rat, no matter if he would have the genetics for balding at a very early age. 
> 
> Balding is a widespread insecurity and problem which many people, especially men, live with, not because having less hair itself should be problematic, but because society views it as such. We do not support the idea of using such traits to further spread the insecurity, contributing to the misconception that it's shameful, by using the trait to add to what is meant to make us distrust and be disgusted by a character.
> 
> Neither do we want to remove other aspects of his canon appearance completely, as he is allowed to exist as much as anyone else with any other appearance.


	22. Chapter 21 - In which the full moon is particularly untimely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Say…” Black hesitated. “I know this is very forward of me, but I am technically your Godfather. Remus confirmed that I still am, despite everything considered and… Well, look, I can tell that you don’t like me. I get it, I don’t like me.” He scoffed and then laughed without happiness. “But I want to be liked. Since you were raised by Rem, I mean… what can I do to make myself less… unwelcome around you? Not trying to be pushy, but it would be nice to sort of know what I have to work on.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:**  
>  Mostly regarding suicidal thoughts and desperation, Sirius still isn't fine, but he'll get better.

Harry slowly opened his mouth. Seeing as he had been the one to ask to hear both their stories, he felt like he was expected to at least try to speak. 

However, before he managed to begin speaking, Malfoy spoke in his stead. “In summary, you have both committed crimes. Pettigrew claims to have been forced into betraying the Potters, yet he still did. He claims to not have meant to kill those Muggles, yet people still died. He claims to not have meant to impersonate a rat and be cared for by the Weasleys for twelve years, but he still did. That doesn’t make him innocent, but he doesn’t seem to have wanted things to turn out this way.” 

Pettigrew glanced at the two boys, looking both happy and sad as he listened to Malfoy’s words. He didn’t object to what the boy was claiming, instead curling together once more, continuing to twist his slightly mutated hands in front of himself. 

“In turn, Black is innocent of all murders which have been attributed to him. Yet he did break out of Azkaban, although he was wrongly imprisoned, so that isn’t unforgivable, even if his breaking out technically wasn’t legal. However, he did it to kill a man, and for this quest, he broke into Hogwarts many times, attacked and ruined a portrait which is school property, as well as caused physical harm to Weasley. After that, he attacked Pettigrew, only not killing him because Professor Lupin pulled them apart. Although Pettigrew isn’t legally alive, so that technically isn’t a crime.” Malfoy reached the end of his summary. 

Snape turned towards Weasley as it was mentioned that he was hurt. Only now did he realise that the boy was bleeding. He quickly abandoned his position next to the stuck prisoner and hurried to Weasley’s side. The man knelt next to the boy's leg and began to use magic to try and ease his pain. As he moved his wand over the broken, bleeding leg, the wounds began to close. For the first time in perhaps an hour, Weasley’s face no longer appeared pained. 

Harry felt endlessly thankful towards Malfoy for once again stepping in and trying to assist with the situation. 

“As you have recently studied magical laws and legislation, did I forget anything?” Malfoy turned towards Hermione. 

“Everything becomes a lot more complicated when one considers that Pettigrew is legally dead. Black isn’t likely considered sane enough to serve as a proper witness to his crimes, and the statute of limitations have passed for most of the crimes committed by Pettigrew.” She mumbled quickly. “I… I really don't know…” 

“This is far too complicated for any of us to decide.” Harry spoke up, looking towards his dad for confirmation. “I do not think that any of these men deserve to be thrown into Azkaban… I think they both deserve a fair trial, with a judge who will judge them based on facts, rather than throw them away like they did with Black the first time.” 

Remus slowly nodded. “I think you are right, all three of you. We should take them both to the Headmaster and the Aurors. With the support of two Hogwarts Professors, an alive murder victim, and the new facts, there is enough here for the case to be tried once more.” 

“Before that, I demand that both of them reveal their inner left forearms.” Malfoy objected, staring at the two men with something akin to hate in his eyes. “If either of them has the Death Eater mark, they will go straight to the Dementors, as that person’s words aren't worth anything.” 

Everyone seemed more than a little surprised by the forcefulness behind the boy’s words. Harry and everyone who had been present at the Boggart lesson knew that Malfoy feared the Death Eater mark more than anything, yet none of them was quite prepared for the way Malfoy concluded that no Death Eater was worth listening to. 

“No, they won’t go to the Dementors for having the mark.” Harry objected in turn, looking at his friend with stern eyes. “It will be taken into consideration, but people don’t deserve to die for being misguided. You shouldn’t condemn someone without knowing the whole story.” 

Malfoy looked away in shame, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “You… you are right, yes. I’m… sorry, it’s not my place to judge. I still demand that they show their arms, but I do not have the power or the right to condemn them.” He straightened up, looking dignified once more. 

Harry and Remus both smiled at him, proud to have him understand that although his hatred wasn’t misguided, it neglected to use logic for the sake of persecution of the perceived guilty party. Many Death Eaters truly were guilty, but just like everyone else, they deserved a fair trial. That did not mean that anyone liked them, or forgave them, but Harry and his dad both considered context very important for the sake of a correct judgement. 

Black waved his arm, managing to move the sleeve away enough that his inner left forearm was revealed. He might have a lot of tattoos, mostly located over his chest and right arm, yet his left forearm was completely empty. 

Pettigrew hesitated but then began pulling up both his oversized sleeves, revealing two blank forearms. There was seemingly not a touch of ink anywhere on him. 

Black clicked his tongue with irritation as he realised that his intended victim was not a marked Death Eater. “That doesn’t make him any less a Death Eater sympathising wretch.” He growled. 

“The same could be said about you, Sirius. That doesn't mean that those claims are true.” Remus tried to calm him down. 

The short man stubbornly glanced to the side, his gaze falling on Snape who was still trying to apply magical first aid to Weasley’s broken leg. “Hey, Sniv, we’re sharing forearms, how about you pull your sleeve up and show us what a real Death Eater mark looks like?” 

At that moment, hearing his old, insane friend attack the man whom Remus considered his closest friend, the werewolf’s temper got the best of him. He stomped forward, slamming his hand into the wall above Black’s head and growled at him, his gaze ablaze with anger. “You do not get to accuse Severus of anything.” He wasn’t shouting, but he was very close to it. “He has been working hard throughout his entire life to be a good person, how dare you think you can just show up and accuse him of being a Death Eater? It’s been years, Sirius, grow up and stop acting like your abuse justifies you hurting others!” 

Black stared back at him, his mouth agape before he slowly chuckled. The chuckle almost sounded normal, although it was slightly mad. “You like him. After all these years, you still like him?” He grinned. 

Pettigrew pulled on Remus’ arm, trying to get him to remove himself from Black. Remus' first reaction was to bare his teeth at the former rat, who flinched at the expression. “R-remus, You’re scaring the children now…” The man commented. 

Remus glanced back at them before shaking his head and licked his lips. He appeared to be ashamed over his behavior. It was true that his outburst had frightened the children, but not as much as anything Sirius Black had done that evening. Harry had never seen his dad act that way before, and it was somewhat conflicting with what he knew his parent to be like, yet the boy wasn’t so ignorant as to think that his behavior was evidence of a lacking character. The situation was very extreme, Remus was stressed, and Black was trying to hurt one of the people who meant the most to the werewolf. They had to be close to a full moon as well, judging by how animalistic his dad was behaving. 

“Me and Severus are just friends.” The werewolf sighed, denying any romantic interest in the man. “I do like my friend, yes.” He added, sounding tired to have to confirm that he enjoyed the company of a person who he considered his friend. 

Black’s smile froze on his lips as he avoided everyone’s gaze, instead staring down at the floor. “So that’s it?” He spoke suddenly and without any proper introduction to what he was talking about. He appeared to have had a realisation. “Twelve years in Azkaban, only to be brought back and tried again? And you are telling me that he will be tried too?” He motioned towards Pettigrew with his head. “You’ve got to be joking! My only goal in life was living out of spite, and to separate that freak’s head from his body! What else do I have to live for?” He yelled at Remus as his eyes began to fill with tears, his body jerking against the invisible restrains. “James is dead! My best friend is gone because of that wretched rat! I don’t have any reason to live any more! You’re claiming that we will both be tried in a court, as if that is a happy ending for everyone! How.. I… J-James is…” The man’s anger finally trailed off, leaving the broken, starved man behind. He sank together against the wall, beginning to cry as if his heart had been crushed. If the restraints hadn’t been holding him up, he would have fallen to the floor by now. 

It was surreal to watch him break down. Harry had always known that adults weren’t that different from children or even teenagers, and yet they appeared so very different from them. He knew that adults could make mistakes, that they were hurting also, and that they could cry. However, seeing his dad cry and seeing this madman from Azkaban bawl were very different things. Where his dad had seemed manageable, this man’s breakdown seemed far more frightening. Harry couldn’t help but think that if he had been alone with someone breaking down like this, he wouldn’t have known what to do, and might possibly have run from the situation altogether. However, he was a child, and he wasn’t expected to be capable of dealing with Black’s emotions. 

“Severus, let him down.” Remus asked the other Professor. 

Snape did hesitate to follow his request, yet he slowly moved his wand towards Black, allowing him to fall from the wall, sinking together on the floor, still sobbing and crying. His crying was very different from Remus, and even different from Pettigrew’s crying. Where the werewolf’s crying had been barely controlled sobs, and the rat’s had been panicked and messy, Black didn’t so much cry as he howled out a deep, crippling despair which had long since festered within him.

Remus knelt in front of him, pulling his friend into his arms and held him, allowing the other man to suffocate his sobs against his chest. Pettigrew pulled back a little, yet he didn’t seem to have any intentions of running away. Instead, he was just removing himself from the man whose very life had centered around killing him for the past year. Harry glanced at the former rat, noticing that the man had tears in his eyes as well. He looked guilty, like he wanted to support Black as well, yet knew that he had forever lost that privilege. When Pettigrew noticed that Harry was looking at him, he quickly turned to the side, hiding his face as he tried to wipe his tears away. 

“Sirius, you can’t live for vengeance alone.” The father informed the man, pulling back to look at his face. “I understand how you feel. I lost all of you. Every single one of you. I was equally despairing, and I thought some rather horrible things about the worth of my own life. Yet, I managed. I had Harry, I was able to find a reason to live, and so can you. You are allowed to live, Sirius. I know how much you loved James, and he loved you too. He wouldn’t want you to live for the sake of avenging him. Killing Peter will not do anything but remove another life from this world. He isn’t innocent, nobody is innocent, but you cannot decide who lives and dies based on hatred. I’m not saying that James would forgive him, but he wouldn’t have wanted either of you to die.” He took a deep breath. “If you want to die for James, then you should live for him instead. James would have wanted that.” 

“You’re telling me to just accept his murder and move on with life?” Black cried, his voice by no means strong as it kept on breaking throughout the sentence. “His killer is right there. I can-”

“Peter didn’t kill them.” Remus objected. “The only person to blame for their death is the Dark Lord. Blaming one another for it won’t solve anything, it won’t bring them back.” Remus tried to reason with him. “You don’t need a big reason to live, you don’t need a grand goal. You can just strive to live. If you can’t live for yourself, and if it’s too frightening to live for James, then live for me. Live for your Godson.” The werewolf took his hands, holding them tightly. “Day by day, little by little, it gets easier. It might never gets truly easy, it never becomes truly painless, but it does become manageable.” 

“I don’t see how it ever becomes manageable…” Black whimpered. 

“It does.” Instead of Remus, Snape answered, looking down at Black with empty eyes. His expression was that of utter void, as if he had shut his emotions away so as to not allow them to bring him to the same state which Black was currently in. “It hurts, the regret remains, the recovery is hard and beyond… complicated. However, while living in itself is complicated, time passes with little to no concern for yours and those around you.” 

Remus gave him a thankful look before turning back to Black. “You don’t have to worry about living your fullest life or anything like that. All you need to do is allow time to pass, one second at a time, they will bleed into days before you know it.” 

Blank grunted, lifting his sleeve to rub his eyes. Remus stopped him before he got dirt in his eyes, instead handing him a handkerchief to dry his eyes with. The prisoner of Azkaban grunted and accepted it. “Fine… for James…” He mumbled in a subtle voice, allowing Remus to pull him to his feet. “Proper trial… all those things…” He continued to mumble to himself. 

“Are we… going back to Hogwarts then?” Hermione carefully asked, slowly getting to her feet. “Professor Dumbledore and the Aurors will deal with this and Weasley can get help with his leg?” 

“Yes.” Remus smiled at her, looking tired but hopeful. “These two won’t bother you children any more. I’m sorry you had to see this.” 

Black turned to Pettigrew, taking a step towards him. His dirty face twisted into another mad grin. “How do you think you’ll manage Azkaban, Pete? Think the Dementors will want to kiss you, or do you think your wretchedness will appall even them?” It truly seemed as if Black was the type of person to continuously lash out towards those weaker than him for the sake of making himself feel better. 

It made Harry feel rather disgusted with the man. He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with the idea of him being one of the reasons which motivated Black to keep on living, yet he did understand that any motivation was better than none. Besides, Black had settled on living for Harry’s biological father rather than for the sake of his Godson, which was a bit of a relief. 

Pettigrew whimpered, putting his mutated hands over his face to hide from the man’s words. It was clear that he was terrified of both the Dementors and the idea of being kissed by one of them. Black seemed to delight in the other man’s fear. 

“Sirius. Stop.” Remus sighed. “We are not going to give you to the Dementors. We will take you to Hogwarts and the Aurors.” 

“You know what you’ve done.” Black insisted, grinning still. “You know that you are guilty.” 

“Peter, the only way you could prove yourself guilty is by running away.” Remus glared at Black, trying to silence the other man with his gaze. “You have a chance to prove your innocence as long as you stay. Yet if you do run again, the Ministry will more than likely consider you guilty based on Sirius testimony.” Remus finished, looking towards Peter with an expression which was attempting to be consoling.

The former rat did not appear fully consoled, but somewhat less frightened. 

“Sure, if you w-” Black continued but he was interrupted by Harry. 

“Bla- uh… Sirius. That is enough. Stop talking.” It was a mad gamble, yet nothing seemed to work on Black, other than Harry’s word. Harry knew that he resembled his biological father a lot, although he had many traits from his mother as well, the most noticeable ones being his green eyes and his freckled shoulders. His face was not specifically freckled, yet his arms and shoulders had plenty of them, despite most people not knowing that about him. Harry hoped to use his resemblance to James Potter against Black, trying to make him listen to the son of his best friend as he was not listening to anyone else. 

To Harry’s great surprise and slight disgust, Black listened to him. He wasn’t disgusted by the man for falling for the trick, but disgusted with himself for using his appearance as a weapon against a very mentally damaged man. The way Black looked at him, with mixed hope, confusion, guilt and longing made Harry feel all the more guilty for using the prisoner’s obsession with James Potter against him. 

Getting everyone back through the tunnel proved to be somewhat complicated. The tunnel was a rather good size for the children, even Black and Pettigrew only needed to bend slightly, yet Remus and Snape were tall enough that they had to struggle to move through the small space. Yet the biggest problem was Weasley, who wasn’t able to walk on his own and needed support to make it through the tunnel in the first place. The two Professors couldn’t help him as they were too large, and Black wasn’t allowed to touch the boy after having almost ripped his leg off just about an hour prior. Pettigrew wasn’t an option either, as the betrayal of being Weasley’s pet rat for years was far too sour for the boy to even want to look at him. Thus, the children had to support him. 

Harry walked first, lighting the way with his wand, followed by Black, who obediently listened to Harry where he would listen to nobody else. After him walked Pettigrew, who had to bend down to be able to pass through the tunnels whereas Black only needed to shrink together slightly. Remus followed, keeping his wand at the ready if either Black or Pettigrew would try to run. Snape walked behind the werewolf, followed by Neville and Malfoy who were supporting Weasley by walking sideways. At the end of the line came Hermione, who was carrying Weasley’s bag for him. 

Harry peeked outside from the tunnel, trying to judge if the Whomping Willow would be a threat or not. It seemed to have been halted by another freezing charm, most likely performed by one of the Professors, which explained why the spell was still active. Harry pulled himself out of the tunnel, feeling relieved by the touch of cold, fresh air against his face. It had become night, meaning that they had probably been in the Shack for longer than Harry had anticipated. The sky above them was still covered in clouds, but they seemed to be moving away. Perhaps the sky would clear up soon and allow them to see a little better in the moonlight. 

The boy moved aside, allowing the prisoner of Azkaban to pull himself out as well. Black stepped to the side, him and Harry both backing away to make sure that everyone got out without them blocking their path. The boy wasn’t too comfortable to have the man by his side, but he found that he could stand it, given the circumstances. 

Pettigrew and Remus exited, stepping away to leave Snape enough space to help the children bring Weasley out. It proved to be somewhat problematic, and ended up taking some time. Harry had just decided that he would go stand next to his dad and the former rat instead of next to Black when the man spoke to him. 

“Did you get my Christmas present?” Black glanced at him, having placed his hands in his pockets, wagging back and forth on the soles of his heels. Harry was surprised to hear him refer to the winter Holidays by Muggle terms. 

“The broom?” Harry asked, causing the man to nod. “Ah, yes. I don’t play Quidditch though.” He quickly excused himself. 

“You don’t play Quidditch?” Black looked like the world had just stopped spinning, starring at Harry like he had grown two more heads. “How can you… I mean… I… Your dad was…”

“My dad,” Harry corrected him, “is Remus Lupin.” He made sure that his words were stern enough that Black wouldn’t feel encouraged to argue with him. 

“Oh.” Black looked towards the tall man where he stood speaking to Pettigrew about something. 

Harry and Black were the furthest from the Whomping Willow, where Snape had managed to carefully pull Weasley out and sat him down on a thick root as he helped the rest of the students to get out of the tunnel. Neville and Malfoy once more took up their positions on different sides of Weasley, preparing to help support him to Hogwarts. Between the group and Harry’s two man team stood Remus and Pettigrew, they were somewhat below Harry and Black, as Harry and the prisoner had climbed the slope and returned to where Weasley had been standing when Black kidnapped him. 

“He must be a good dad.” Black finally commented. 

“The best.” Harry enforced, smiling a little. 

Black smiled too, leaning his head to the side. “We always told him that he’d make a great dad, but he was always acting as if it was impossible for him. With his condition and all that. You should have heard the rants he held about the dangers of his blood destroying a child’s life, then argue about being unable to support a kid during the full moons if he adopted one.” The man glanced at Harry. “I think you’ve done more for him than any of us ever managed. Uh, this might be weird to say to a kid, but... thanks... For taking care of him.” 

It became easier to smile at Black the more the man spoke. He might have desperately needed to release his pent up emotions for the sake of being even remotely sane once more. Harry nodded. “I’m always happy to be able to help my dad, just as he has helped me.” 

“Say…” Black hesitated. “I know this is very forward of me, but I am technically your Godfather. Remus confirmed that I still am, despite everything considered and… Well, look, I can tell that you don’t like me. I get it, I don’t like me.” He scoffed and then laughed without happiness. “But I want to be liked. Since you were raised by Rem, I mean… what can I do to make myself less… unwelcome around you? Not trying to be pushy, but it would be nice to sort of know what I have to work on.” 

It would have been an impossible request, had Black asked the same thing of another thirteen year old child. Yet Harry had an understanding of what he wanted in this case due to his upbringing, and he was able to answer. For a moment he thought about what his dad had said about Sirius acting as if the abuse inflicted on him gave him the right to hurt others. “Apologise to Professor Snape. Apologise to Pettigrew. Stop acting entitled to hurt others because you are hurting.” He spoke simply, although he was afraid that Black would lash out towards him for his honesty.

The man began to object but then stopped himself, choking his objections back. His feelings transformed into an angry sound which squeezed its way through his clenched teeth. He tried to take deep breaths, finally managing to speak again. “I will try and be better with Sniv-”

“Professor Snape.” Harry corrected him. 

Black rolled his eyes. “Professor Snape.” He didn’t speak the title with an ounce of respect, instead forcing it out of his mouth like the word had been stuck in his throat. “But I’m never apologising to that traitor.” 

“Then at least don’t provoke him.” Harry asked. “Don’t bully him, or hurt him, or try to attack him with words.” He didn’t have the guts or the heart to state to the man that his behavior was likely what had triggered the betrayal in the first place, or at the very least played a part of why it had happened at all.

Black groaned like a misbehaving child, but then nodded. “Fine, fine. Do I get to call you Harry? You can call me Sirius.” 

“I’ll agree to letting you call me Harry when you have proved to me that you are worthy to entrust with my name. You’ll gain that right by becoming a better person.” Harry smiled at the man, trying to seem far more confident than he was. To his great relief, the man didn’t act like he was angry, instead, he seemed determined. 

“Fine.” Black grinned back, showing Harry his yellow teeth. “I’ll earn it.” 

At his promise, the clouds parted, lighting the grounds up with gentle, silvery moonlight. Black seemed younger in the light, his previously harsh face appeared kinder. He looked very honest in his promise to try and become better for the sake of being allowed to use Harry’s first name. 

“Remus?” Pettigrew’s voice reached Harry and Black, who turned towards him. The former rat was standing in front of the taller man, whose eyes were locked to the sky, staring at something. “Remus? R-Remus?” The rat continued, beginning to slowly back away from the man as he started to tremble, his wand falling out of his hand and onto the wet grass. 

Harry and Black turned, looking towards whatever it was that Remus was staring at. Above them in the sky hung the full moon, perfectly round. The light which had previously seemed so kind and bright suddenly became cruel and cold. Harry felt his heart sink in his chest, the blood in his veins turned to ice as he realised what was about to happen. 

Remus groaned, a deep, animalistic sound as he stumbled to the side, lifting his hands above his head as his body trembled even worse. 

The transformation was beginning. 

There was no stopping it. 

Remus was changing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Healing Magic**  
>  If magic could just heal with the pronunciation of a spell, it would remove the need for hospitals or even the Infirmary at Hogwarts. 
> 
> In this lore, one needs to have an anatomical bodily understanding for healing, the need for certain knowledge depending vastly on what exactly is being healed. This canon's Severus Snape has some experience in that area, while Remus Lupin doesn't. 
> 
> This is also why there are mages specialising in healing, just like there have been healers in magic and Muggle history.


	23. Chapter 22 - In which Harry Lupin encounters the werewolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No. Oh no. No, no, no…” Black mumbled as he jumped from the slope, running over to the changing werewolf and caught him as he fell forward. “Rem? Rem! Have you taken your potion? Remus!” He tried to shake answers out of the man, yet all he got was another deep, glottal growl. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:**  
>  The werewolf transformation is particularly gruesome. It might trigger reactions in regards to imagery of something growing under the skin of a person.

“No. Oh no. No, no, no…” Black mumbled as he jumped from the slope, running over to the changing werewolf and caught him as he fell forward. “Rem? Rem! Have you taken your potion? Remus!” He tried to shake answers out of the man, yet all he got was another deep, glottal growl. 

Snape had realised what was happening as well, and he spun around towards the children behind him. “Get back into the tunnel. Granger first, hurry but try not to make too much noise.” 

The children didn’t move, they were too horrified by what was happening before them. Even Harry found himself staring, unable to pull his eyes away from the shocking transformation which happened in front of him. Black was the only one who seemed unafraid, staying with Remus as he sank to his knees, his noises becoming less and less human. 

Pettigrew backed away, shaking his head with a look of fear forming on his face. Harry realised with a startled that he was about to run away.

“Pettigrew, wait!” Harry yelled to be heard over the werewolf’s and Black’s noises. “If you run now, you will forever be guilty! There will be no way to prove your innocence, you will be hunted forever.” 

The former rat looked up at Harry, his eyes wet. He hesitated, before his features twisted into a despaired grin. “I’m sorry… Once a coward, always a coward… Take care of Ron for me, he deserves better friends than a disgusting rat.” With those words, he transformed, disappearing out of view in the tall grass and ran away, escaping the possible doom which staying might bring him. 

Harry considered running after him, yet another pained scream drew his attention back to his dad and Black. Unlike an animagus, whose transformation was quick and comparatively painless, which appeared to the viewer as a flurry of limbs twisting and growing with fur appearing somewhere in that movement, the werewolf transformation appeared to be slow and excruciating. 

Remus' skin seemed to boil, his whole body trembling as if something was pushing his skeleton to change from inside of him. His nails became claws, his arms and legs became longer, but worst of all was his face. Harry could see it clearly from where he was standing. It appeared as if something else was growing inside his head, pushing all his other features out of alignment and shaping them into something beastly. Watching the transformation made it very clear why the beast was in so much pain afterwards, nobody who had witnessed such a transformation would be able to claim anything other than that it appeared agonisingly painful. 

“Get into the tunnel!” Snape enforced once more as the werewolf moved his head back, howling at the moon. 

The beast moved its arms and legs, breaking through the clothes and sending Black flying to the side, the man disappearing into the thick bushes next to their location, becoming removed from Harry’s sight.

The transformation was complete, where Harry’s beloved dad had stood now cowered a werewolf, wearing the remains of Remus’ favorite sweater. Harry could hear the soft whimpers which left the beast, making it sound like it was crying. The humanoid beast covered its face with its human-like hands, as if hiding in shame. 

“Into the tunnel. Slowly and silently.” Snape urged the children once more, finally snapping Hermione out of her trance. She tried to follow her Professor’s advice, slowly sliding back into the dark tunnel. 

There was a loud gasp of pain which caused the werewolf to snap its head towards the group of children and the teacher, staring at them with bright yellow eyes. Weasley had tried to move, in his attempt, he had placed his weight on his broken leg, triggering a reaction of pain in the form of a gasp. The werewolf stared at them, sniffing the air. It caught the scent of blood and roared, storming towards the children. Someone screamed as Snape aimed his wand towards the beast. 

“No!” Harry screamed as the Potions Master uttered a spell. He didn’t know what Snape planned on doing, yet he couldn’t stop the instinctual fear that the man would try to hurt his dad. 

The werewolf crashed into an invisible shield, pushing Snape back as it threw itself at the force field which protected the man and his students. The children were scrambling for the tunnel, trying to get Weasley down into it as the beast attacked the shield once more. Snape was trying to hold his ground, pushing back to halt the werewolf’s advances. 

“Lupin!” Malfoy screamed at him, as he realised that Harry was stuck on the other side of the werewolf. “Get out of there! Run!” 

Yet Harry couldn’t move, he found himself stuck in the same spot, unable to take his eyes away from the wild beast who had been his dad just a few minutes prior. This was the werewolf which he had lived with all his life. It was strangely human, even if it didn’t resemble his dad in the least. He was frightened by it, not because it was a werewolf, but because it was a ferocious animal in pain, which made it truly dangerous. It looked just like Professor Snape claimed it did, with little hair and long limbs. The werewolf's jaws was opening and closing as the beast attacked the shield with both claws and fangs. It felt impossible to imagine that his dad’s smiling lips could ever twist into something like the beast’s mouth. Snape was struggling to keep the shield steady under the werewolf’s assault. Harry could see that it was draining him both physically and magically. 

Out of the bushes dashed a big, black dog. It jumped at the werewolf’s back, grabbed a hold of its neck and twisted, pulling them both backwards just as a thick branch slammed into the space where the werewolf had just stood. The Whomping Willow had come to life, finally freed from the freezing charm. 

The Potions Master realised that this was his chance to keep the children safe from the beast, which Black had dragged outside of the tree’s range. If Black had planned it or not was unclear, as the two canines were currently clashing violently, barking and growling at one another while they fiercely fought one another. Snape pushed Malfoy down into the tunnel, and then he had stopped after realising that Harry was stuck on the other side. Now, Harry was stuck on the other side of two fighting beasts, and a violent tree, which would no longer offer protection to the children in the tunnel if stopped. Harry could see in Snape’s eyes that the man despaired not being able to reach him, not being able to help him. 

“Climb a tree, Lupin! Climb high and remain still!” Snape called to him. “Black might be able to chase him off, don’t worry about anything but yourself, go!” 

Harry snapped back as he heard the man yell. Before him, the werewolf grabbed the dog and threw it into the bushes, diving after the canine with a glottal snarling noise. Harry ran towards the Forbidden Forest, it wasn’t too far away and it was the only place where he could find a tree to climb up in. He didn’t look behind himself, but he heard that something came chasing after him, only to be stopped, replaced by the sound of something heavy falling over. The werewolf had given chase but been interrupted by the large dog who once again managed to knock it over, beginning their battle anew. 

The boy reached the edge of the forest, yet found no tree to climb up in. He turned, just in time to see the werewolf throw the black dog to the side once more, where it became limp. In the bright moon light, Harry could see that both canines were bleeding, although the dog had gotten far deeper wounds than the larger and stronger werewolf. He watched in horror as the beast who was his dad approached the fallen dog, lifting a large, clawed hand as if preparing to crush the other canine with it. 

“Dad, no!” Harry called towards it, stepping forward. 

The beast’s head snapped towards him, growling once more. It began moving towards the boy, it was clear from even the simplest of movements from the creature just how strong and agile it was. Had it not been so terrifying, its movements might have been awe-inspiring. It was fast, approaching him with terrifying speed. 

“Dad, it’s me.” Harry had meant to call out, yet he only managed a soft whimper as he backed, falling down onto the ground as the werewolf rose before him, bleeding and panting, its eye ablaze with madness and pain. “It’s me.” The boy whispered one more, feeling tears overflow in his eyes. 

Then… it stopped.

The werewolf stopped. 

It stood before Harry, its arm raised before it slowly sank to its side. The beast lowered itself down as a soft, low whine came from it. It was no longer a growling. It approached Harry, sniffing the air before rising back up again. The yellow eyes appeared more human as it pulled back. It whimpered again, lifting the monstrous hands over its face, once more appearing to be hiding in shame. Then, the werewolf leaped past Harry and ran into the Forbidden Forest, disappearing so quickly that there was no way for Harry to know which way it had run. 

Yet, the boy found himself smiling. His dad had recognised him. Somewhere, despite everything, he had recognised Harry’s voice and refrained from hurting him. It had been close, it had been frightening, yet at the end, the were had triumphed over the wolf. 

There was a noise behind Harry, which he turned towards. Black had stood up, returned to his human form, yet he stumbled forward and disappeared so quickly that Harry drew the conclusion that he must have fallen. The son of the werewolf ran after him, finding himself standing on top of a steep slope which led to a beautiful and still part of the lake next to Hogwarts. It seemed to be that part of the lake had pooled here, and become a small lake on its own, or perhaps the slope had once been the edge of the lake many many years ago. Nonetheless, Black was lying by the edge of the pool of water, seemingly still alive as he was moving slightly. He seemed to have rolled there without intending to, and was now trying to get up. 

“Bl- Sirius!” Harry called out as he began the descent, sliding down the slope to get to the man. “Lay still, I’m coming.” He made it to the man’s side and was quickly able to conclude that the man was bleeding heavily. He could see quite a few bruises and cuts over his skin, but the real problem was the deep gashes left by the werewolf's claws. Harry could feel himself begin to panic but he quickly realised that he did know what do to. He knew how to perform first aid thanks to the book which Hermione had given him on his birthday. He needed to keep calm, he knew what to do. He just needed to breathe and then do it.

First, he pulled Black into a position which would allow the man to breathe easier, then he pulled his own jacket off to reach his mage robes. He pulled them off himself as well, beginning to rip the lining out of them. It was the cleanest part of his clothes, and it was all he had to bandage Black up with. 

Harry hurried over to the lake, pulled his sleeves up and dipped his hands into it, trying to wash the dirt and grime off himself before returning to Black’s side. He worked feverishly, wrapped and tied the lining around the man’s wounds, trying to keep them closed until help would arrive. With a werewolf loose, he didn’t trust that Snape would abandon the other children to come and check up on what had happened to either Harry or the man’s old bully. There was nobody who could keep the man from bleeding out but Harry at that moment. He continued to move back and forth between the man and the lake, washing his hands. He was becoming colder, yet he didn’t realise it. 

He was so focused on bandaging Black up that he didn’t even notice when his breaths became visible in the air, creating white huffs of smoke. 

Harry leaned back, breathing hard. His hands were cold and shaking, and covered in blood, but at least he had managed to wrap every wound on Black’s body the best he could. Harry realised that he was cold, so he reached for his jacket, only to notice the white smoke which left his lips. The realisation came with a crushing sense of defeat, he found himself feeling completely worthless, as his limbs became impossibly heavy. Next to him, Black whimpered, curling together. Harry heard one of the makeshift bandages snap as the man moved, likely breaking from the action. 

Harry forced his head to turn, spotting the creatures where they hovered over the lake, slowly sailing towards him and the prisoner from Azkaban. The Dementors seemed to approach them almost lazily, as if they knew that the two humans were cornered. Black couldn’t make it up the slope in the state he was in, and Harry had been through so much that his legs refused to listen to him. He looked back at Black, for a second, he considered abandoning the man and trying to run away to save himself, but he realised that the man was only as hurt as he was because he has defended them all from the feral werewolf. If Harry left, he would leave Black to die after the man fought to protect him and all his friends. 

He couldn’t leave him. 

Harry crawled back to the man, positioning himself over him as he pulled his wand out of its assigned pocket. He could barely raise it. The Dementors were coming closer, approaching from every angle. There was not only one or two, but seemingly up to twenty of them, all approaching slowly but deliberately. 

“Expecto Patronum…” Harry whispered, trying to muster the shield to protect himself and Black. The silvery shield appeared, yet flickered out within a few seconds. 

The Dementors were coming closer. 

“Expecto… Patronum…” The boy tried again, waving his wand yet nothing appeared from its tip. 

The Dementors were closing in behind him as well, he could see them appear on top of the slope as well as from the lake. 

He was surrounded, there was no running from them now. He stared at his wand, trying to persuade the patronus to appear by staring at his wand, appear and save him. Nothing happened. 

“Harry!” 

There was a flash of silvery light which prompted the creatures to stop. Up on the slope appeared Neville and Malfoy, the latter had managed to call forth his shield patronus, using it to chase away the Dementors from them. The creatures hadn’t been stopped however, they were still approaching, one of them getting close enough to almost touch Malfoy’s shield before being chased away by it. 

Harry found himself smiling. Neville was there. He was able to cast a fully formed patronus, he could chase the creatures away and save them all. Neville moved his wand, casting the spell and yet… Nothing happened. 

The boy froze, then tried again, yelling louder, yet his voice was swallowed up by the Dementors horrible, raspy breathing which filled Harry’s ears. He could see the Dementors get closer to his friends, he could see Malfoy protect Neville to allow him to cast the Patronus Charm. Still, nothing happened. 

A Dementor stepped in front of Harry, blocking the view of his friends. Harry found himself alongside Black, surrounded by a circle of Dementors, they seemed so very tall, blocking out everything but the full moon above Harry’s head. He stared at it, absently thinking that it was a rather beautiful last thing to see, despite the moon being to blame for the current situation. 

Harry shut his eyes, accepting that he wasn’t going to be saved. 

He absently continued to think about his dad, running somewhere through the dark woods, finally free to roam for a night. It wasn’t his dad’s fault, Harry wasn’t mad at him in any way. He just hoped that Remus wouldn’t blame himself too much for what had happened. 

Yet he would. 

Remus would never forgive himself for this. 

He would never stop blaming himself for Harry’s death.

If Harry died here, Remus would never recover. 

The boy’s eyes snapped open, he felt himself fill with desire to live, a feeling so strong that he felt like he was going to burst. Every muscle felt like it was on fire, heating him up with energy and life. 

He was not dying here. 

The thought was so strong, the feeling so overwhelming that even the Dementors halted. Harry wasn’t going to die, not like this, not here. He lifted his wand up towards the sky, screaming at the moon in a mad roar which burst with determination to live. “Expecto Patronum!” He felt himself vibrate as a creature burst from the tip of his wand, sending a shockwave of light from itself as it broke forth, attacking the closest Dementor with a roar of its own. 

The Dementors began to back away, fleeing from the silvery beast as it dashed towards them, the long limbs gracefully moving as it crashed with open jaws into those who sought to hurt the one who had called it forth for protection. Harry struggled to see what it was as it moved in a blur of silvery light around him and Black, breaking the circle which had formed around them. 

“Expecto Patronum!” 

Neville’s giant occamy appeared next to Harry’s patronus, diving into the crowd of Dementors, almost swallowing one whole. Harry had managed to part them with his, yet the winged serpent was powerful enough to send the creatures fleeing, screaming just as they had when Professor Dumbledore’s phoenix had chased them off. The occamy circled Harry and Black, its long body acting as a shield to protect them from anything which would try to hurt them as Harry’s long limbed patronus gave chase after the Dementors.

Harry stood up, stumbling towards the lake. He needed to see what shape his patronus had taken, he thought he recognised it, yet he needed to confirm it with his own eyes. The winged serpent let Harry pass, flying from his side to return to Neville. 

Harry saw it clearly where it had stopped in the middle of the pool of water. His patronus stood silent, hovering a few centimeters over the lake. It was bathed in brilliant, silver moonlight, standing tall and proud. Harry smiled as the werewolf patronus turned towards him, slowly beginning to make its way back to the shore. The boy reached out for it, and the beast pushed its nose into his hand, closing its eyes. They stood still for a few seconds, the werewolf still hovering over the lake while Harry remained standing on the shore, the two linked by the boy’s outreached hand. 

“Thank you… dad.” Harry whispered. 

The werewolf patronus let out a soft noise, one which Harry had heard so many times through the closed basement door. The noise which the werewolf had always responded with when he wished it good night. 

Harry lost consciousness, falling backwards onto the shore. He was already gone before he hit the ground, yet the smile on his lips remained even as his awareness faded. 

His dad had saved him.


	24. Chapter 23 - In which Sirius Black escapes from Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry felt his heart sink so violently in his chest that it hurt. Remus' secret had been revealed? How had that happened? Had someone told the Aurors? His mind buzzed with so many questions that he couldn’t focus on following any one trail of thought. Instead, he returned to feeling a crushing sense of hopelessness. Everything which Remus had feared had come true. He had transformed, almost attacking his son, and then been revealed as a werewolf to the entire Wizarding World. Harry didn’t know for a certain that everyone knew, but he wasn’t optimistic enough to think that such a secret would be kept between adults only. It would slip to the student body and likely spread like fiendfyre. 

Harry hadn’t expected to be woken up by shouting, quickly followed by a door slamming open. He sat up, finding that he couldn’t make out anything clearly as he wasn’t wearing his glasses, yet he recognised the hospital wing, as well as the shapes of Malfoy, Neville and Hermione where they were sitting around his bed. 

“This is a hospital! You cannot just barge in!” Madam Pomfrey objected to the group of people who had just entered. 

Harry fumbled with his glasses, finding that a group of Aurors had seemingly just forced their way inside the hospital wing, disregarding the words of the nurse, who tried to make them refrain from disturbing her patients. They had already woken Harry up, yet the group didn’t seem to care in the least over what was happening around them. 

“Where is Black?” The large Auror who seemed to be leading the group turned towards her, his wand drawn and his eyes cold. “We are here to apprehend him. Nothing else matters but protecting the students in this school.” 

“Not even the students?” A female Auror asked, leaning her head to the side as she crossed her arms. Her expression turned into a displeased yet teasing frown as she looked to her fellow Auror.

Harry recognised her as the young Auror who had accompanied him and Malfoy to the practice game between the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams. Her hair had changed into a bright bubblegum color, Harry distinctively remembered that she hadn’t had hair like that when he first met her. 

The man ignored her in favor of repeating his question. He looked ready to use violence upon the nurse if she didn’t answer his question. “Where is Black?” 

“At the back of the room. He is very hurt, he shouldn’t be moved a-” 

“You chased us out once to save his life, you can’t make us wait any longer.” The Auror interrupted her, turning to the rest of his group. He gave the order to move, and they all moved further down the room. 

In the back of the room stood a lone bed, hidden away behind two layers of dividers. The Aurors didn’t waste any time in approaching it with their wands drawn, half pulling, half yanking the dividers away to get to Black. Only he wasn’t there. The bed was empty, other than blooded sheets and pillows, there was nobody in the bed. 

“Where is he?” The leader demanded to know, turning back towards the woman who looked equally confused as him. 

“He… he was dying! There is no way that he could have made it anywhere with those wounds.” She objected, coming over to confirm that the bed was empty. 

There was a clash and a growl coming from behind the Aurors, and they turned to find a wounded black dog cowering in the corner opposite of where Black was supposed to be. It had knocked a cup over from the night table next to the bed where it was trying to hide from the intruders under the bed but had ultimately been too wounded to crawl in under it. 

“A doggy!” The young Auror with the bubblegum hair exclaimed, smiling happily. “Aww, the boy is hurt? What happened to you, little friend?” She knelt down and held out a hand towards him, cooing for the dog to come over to her. The dog growled at her.

“That happens to be Snuffles, Hogwarts hero and future therapy dog.” Everyone turned towards Albus Dumbledore, who strode into the room, bringing with him a calm aura which seemed to clash violently with the Aurors professional yet angry demeanor. Behind the old wizard was Professor Snape, appearing to be just as calm as the Headmaster.

“It’s what now?” An Auror asked, blinking at the old man. 

“Enough with your games, Dumbledore.” The Auror ringleader stepped forward, glaring down at the shorter man with a cold look in his eyes. “Not only did you illegally hire a werewolf as a teacher, if you are also trying to protect and hide a criminal, I will arrest you here and now for the sake of the students of Hogwarts.” 

Harry felt his heart sink so violently in his chest that it hurt. Remus' secret had been revealed? How had that happened? Had someone told the Aurors? His mind buzzed with so many questions that he couldn’t focus on following any one trail of thought. Instead, he returned to feeling a crushing sense of hopelessness. Everything which Remus had feared had come true. He had transformed, almost attacking his son, and then been revealed as a werewolf to the entire Wizarding World. Harry didn’t know for a certain that everyone knew, but he wasn’t optimistic enough to think that such a secret would be kept between adults only. It would slip to the student body and likely spread like fiendfyre. 

The secret was out, there was no other conclusion which Harry could draw.

“My dear Shacklebolt.” The Headmaster began, his expression remaining pleasant and polite. “There is no law against hiring a werewolf. The legislation makes it so that a person can be fired on causes of Lycanthropy, but there is no law claiming that I have to fire Mr. Lupin from his post. The Ministry was well aware of the man’s condition, and he has been supplied for twelve years with the Lycanthropy potion by that very Ministry you claim did not know about his tragic illness. Mr. Lupin left together with Professor Snape here to save his son and the lives of four other children, whereas one was kidnapped by Sirius Black under what should have been your watch. Yet every Auror failed to notice.” 

“We did see them leave.” Someone in the crowd objected. “When they didn’t return, we grew suspicious.” 

“Yet you did nothing.” Professor Dumbledore continued. “You didn’t notice until you realised that the Dementors were missing from their posts, during which time those horrid creatures almost managed to steal the lives of three young boys, as well as the life of the prisoner whom they were chasing.”

“But we did arrest Black…” Someone objected, sounding almost pouty. 

“And now he seems to be gone.” The Headmaster turned towards Shacklebolt again, raising a polite eyebrow as he spoke. “Those boys are only alive thanks to the magic which Mr. Lupin has taught them, magic far above their age and skill level. Magic which they managed to perform excellently where the majority of people would find themselves unable to.” He stopped to smile at Harry, Neville and Malfoy before once more looking at the Auror leader. “Rather than criticising my choice to hire a most excellent teacher, perhaps you should first face your own shortcomings as the protectors of the school.” 

“That dog over there,” the old wizard continued and lifted a finger to point towards the large black dog, who had been tamed with a piece of candy from the bubblegum haired woman, yielding to her desire to scratch his head. “Was able to assist my students more than any of your Aurors. It has been seen around campus, caused quite the stir as some mistook it for an omen of death. I believe you have heard of the spectral dog called the Grim?” He didn’t actually wait for an answer before he continued. “Snuffles here leaped to the children’s, and Professor Snape’s rescue, fighting the unfortunate Mr. Lupin for the sake of protecting them all. It seems that Black might have run into Mr. Lupin as he fled into the Forbidden Forest, which explains his wounds.” 

Shacklebolt stared at the Headmaster, appearing very displeased. “I’m not so certain that story paints the whole picture.” The man objected. 

“If you want an official statement, I shall be the one to give it to you.” Professor Snape stepped forward, calmly looking at the large man in front of him. “I was present, I shall be cooperative to my full ability. Yet this is a hospital. Black isn’t here. The children need rest after all that they have been through.” 

“They’ve rested all night.” The Auror objected, although it was evident in his body language that he was backed into a corner. The Potions Master was right and Shackelbolt knew it.

“Leave the students alone and remove yourself from the hospital most promptly.” Madam Pomfrey ordered before she gave the Headmaster a glare. “Warn me the next time you bring an animal into my hospital. This is not a veterinary clinic.” 

“You have my deepest apologies, Poppy. I took the time to look over him myself, you do not need to worry about his wound.” The Headmaster bowed to her. 

“The wounds aren’t the problem. The fact that he is mangy is.” She crossed her arms over her chest as the Aurors began to leave the room, Shacklebolt giving them orders about where to search for Black. 

“He is not mangy, just… very dirty.” The bubblegum hair woman spoke up, trying to brush her hands off as she followed the other Aurors. “Bye Snuffles.” 

The dog began to hobble after her. For a few seconds, it seemed that he was trying to follow her, but he quickly veered off and hobbled into Harry’s booth. The boy could now see him properly, confirming that the dog was indeed Sirius Black. 

The Auror had looked excited about the prospect of having a dog like her so much that it followed her, yet her expression turned disappointed as the dog walked up to Harry, trying to lift its head onto the bed. “Ah, damnit. Dogs always love children first.” The woman joked before turning towards the two Professors. “Headmaster, Stick-in-the-mud-master.” She greeted them both, winked at Snape, and trotted off towards the door. 

The Headmaster waved after her, looking happy while the Potions Master fought to not roll his eyes. 

“Ms. Tonks has grown a lot, her career seems most splendid indeed.” The old wizard chuckled. 

“Although she could stand to develop a more professional attitude.” The Potions Professor sighed. 

“Hi, Snuffles… Are you doing alright?” Harry wasn’t sure how to address a dog, especially since he knew that he was speaking to a fully sentient human. 

“When we found Snuffles here,” the old wizard walked up to Harry’s bed and petted the dog carefully on his back. “He was all wrapped up in makeshift bandages, created out of somebody’s school uniform robes.”

Harry blinked before smiling a little sheepishly at the old man. “Oh, yeah. Of course.” 

“Excellent use of first aid, Mr. Lupin.” The Headmaster praised him. “Twenty points to Slytherin. You definitely saved this one’s life.” He patted the dog again before studying his hand. The man hummed, smiling happily still. “She was right, you truly do need a bath.” 

Snuffles whimpered in return. Harry was unsure whether the animagus whimpered about the prospect of bathing or Slytherin being rewarded House points for Harry saving his life.

The doors opened but there was no sound of footsteps. Harry glanced towards the doors as he noticed that Professor Snape turned to inspect the source of the noise. The source proved to be a patronus in the shape of a silvery wolf. It walked up to the Potions Professor and carefully pushed its head against the man’s leg, looking up at him with pleading eyes before slowly walking towards the door. 

“Pardon me.” The man didn’t even look back at them as he turned towards the door and swept out with such speed that Harry realised that he must have been running. The idea of Snape running was somehow so strange that he couldn’t imagine it, even after having seen it. 

Harry pushed the blanket off himself, hurrying after the man. “That was my dad’s patronus. Dad called for Professor Snape, he must be back.” The son of a werewolf began to head towards the door, he struggled to walk despite not being physically hurt, as exhaustion had affected his muscles badly. 

Harry made it to the door before he realised that his friend hadn’t followed him. The only one who had followed him was Snuffles, the others remained by his bed, none of them looked at him, instead staring to the sides or down at their own hands. He couldn’t understand why none of them moved, then it dawned on him. It was because of his dad being a werewolf. He glared at them, feeling the bitter sourness of betrayal on his tongue before slamming the door shut hard after Snuffles, leaving his apparently biggotted friends behind the closed door. 

Hermione flinched as the door shut, only to hide in her hands, her hair falling all around her as she began to tremble. Neville stared in front of himself, maintaining eye contact with the pillow upon which Harry had lay on. Malfoy fumbled with his beloved cufflinks, trying hard to not chew on his lower lip. Neither of them spoke, all of them feeling guilty for not joining Harry to meet his dad. 

The Headmaster left to speak with Madam Pomfrey, who was lecturing him about bringing stray animals into a hospital wing. He stood silently, listening to her complaints without interrupting.

Silence continued to weigh heavily between them until Malfoy finally spoke up. “Thus… what shall we do now?” 

“I don’t know.” Neville admitted. “Professor Lupin is a werewolf… I didn’t think that it was legal to hire one, especially in a school. Although that does explain why he was sick so often.” 

Hermione sobbed. “I can’t get the sight of his transformation out of my head. I still see…” She stopped herself, sobbing again. 

“Me neither.” Malfoy admitted in a small voice. “After everything that Professor Snape said, seeing that beast in real life… I understand why the Wizarding World is so frightened by them. I saw what it did to Black’s body… he really could have… died.” His voice faded out at the last word. 

“He could have killed his own son. Harry was stuck out there, he could have gotten hurt too. How could he forget to take his medicine? Hasn’t he been taking it for twelve years?” Neville agreed, resting his head in his hands. 

“Excuse me.” Another voice came from the other side of the divider behind Neville and Hermione. 

The three of them hesitated but got up, walking around the divider to find Weasley there, his leg completely wrapped up in a thick cast, raised above the bed. He was not about to go anywhere soon from the look of him. “Uh, as your almost friend but sort of not, do you mind if I’m perfectly honest with you?” Weasley looked at the three of them, hesitating before speaking up about what he really wanted to say. 

The three friends exchanged glances with one another before nodding towards the red haired boy. 

Weasley took a deep breath. “Have you all lost your ability to think? What is all this junk about it being scary seeing him? That man has to live with that horror every day of his life. Sure, he was scary, but he didn’t actually manage to hurt anyone but Black, who kind of jumped at him first. Harry has been living with him for years, and according to you two,” he nodded at Malfoy and Neville. “His patronus even became a werewolf to protect him. We’ve had Snape, Professor-loves-nobody-and-cares-for-nothing tell us that werewolves are completely harmless every other day and night of the month. Heck, most people are dangerous always!” He swept out with his hands. 

“There is no reason as to why Professor Lupin would be dangerous to anyone as he is now. He probably feels like crap after transforming in front of us and after being outed to the school. He’s the best teacher we’ve ever had, and they are going to take him away because of something he can’t help. You’ve seen how much he fears himself, you’ve seen his boggart. If I could walk right now, I’d go right to him and show him that I’m not scared of him!” Weasley finished, huffing slightly as his speech had become rather passionate and rather loud. 

The tree stared at him in silence before Hermione hit her own cheeks, nodding feverishly. “Yes! You are right! We shouldn’t be like that. He is really scared too… you are right!” She yelled louder, as if to chase away her fears with the volume of her voice. 

“We shouldn’t be scared of him. Even if the world fears him, they are wrong. He is the best teacher, and a really, really good father.” Neville agreed. “He can’t help that he is sick.” 

Malfoy sighed, pulling some hair behind his ear. “I can’t believe Weasley was more open minded than any of us… Especially after being the Heir of Slytherin.” 

The red haired boy blushed and looked to the side, unsure over how to react to their praise. 

“I was told to come over here and tell you to lower your voices,” the Headmaster spoke up behind them, having soundlessly joined their group. “Excellent display of openmindedness, Mr. Weasley.” The old man nodded at him, smiling in his calm yet distant manner. “Ten points to Gryffindor. But do lower your voices.” 

“We were just leaving.” Malfoy assured him as he and the two Gryffindors moved towards the doors, running after Harry towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts office where they assumed the werewolf, his son, and their Potions Professor to currently be. 

The Headmaster waved after them. “No running in the corridors.” He hummed calmly, seemingly unbothered by them running in the corridors.


	25. Chapter 24 - In which Remus Lupin learns how loved he actually is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But I...I…” Remus objected in a weak manner. 
> 
> “No, dad, you don’t understand.” Harry retorted. “It didn’t hurt me. It was right there, right in front of me. It recognised me. You recognised me. You didn’t hurt me, you ran past me without touching me.” 

Harry tried to run to his dad’s office, but he found himself unable to run more than a few steps before he almost toppled over from exhaustion. He had to stop and lean against a wall to catch his breath before he could even walk again. Unlike Neville, Harry didn’t have a large amount of internal magic at his disposal. He had been frightened out of his mind, and worked his body to the point of collapsing even before he cast the Patronus Charm. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to the boy that he wasn’t in any shape to run, yet he had naively thought that his rest had restored him enough.

As he stopped to breathe, the large black dog caught up to him. It was panting, its tongue hanging out and its body trembling. Black was evidently far worse than Harry, yet he had still tried to run with him. The boy licked his lips, feeling guilty as he looked down upon the wounded animal, despite knowing that Black was fully capable of realising on his own that he shouldn’t be running right now. 

Still, the state of the dog made Harry realise that he should slow down and move at a less fast pace. After asking the dog if it could continue and receiving a nod in return, the two of them kept walking. Rather, Harry walked while the canine limped after him. 

The two of them had to stop after climbing the stairs to the second floor. The dog laid down next to Harry where he stopped to lean against another wall. He knew that if he sat down, he would struggle greatly to stand up once more, thus he only allowed himself to rest by leaning against the walls rather than sit down. 

“Harry!” 

He heard Hermione call out to him, thus turning to find that his friends had caught up with him and were currently making their way up to them. The dog barked at them, it didn’t bare its teeth, yet neither did it appear happy to see them. 

“We’re sorry!” Hermione panted, addressing Harry despite him giving her a less than approving look. The boy’s displeased expression turned into surprise as he heard her words. 

“We shouldn’t have hesitated.” Neville continued. “Despite what happened, Professor Lupin is still Professor Lupin. There is no reason to fear him, and we were absolute fools for even thinking there was.” 

The two Gryffindor students and Harry looked towards the blonde mage, who seemed to be hesitating. Malfoy glanced to the side, catching his breath for a bit, then slowly opened his mouth to speak as well, his cheeks heating slightly as he spoke. “Weasley scolded us. He was… right. Without him, we’d probably be hesitating still.” He admitted with no small effort. “I’m… sorry. Personally. Just me.” He added. 

The dog barked again, this time wagging its tail as it did. 

“Thank you.” Harry smiled at them, surprising himself with how breathless the words were. He hadn’t realised that it would be that hard to speak. “I’d give you a speech or… something, but my dad needs me far more than you need someone else telling you that you were wrong.” He didn’t so much speak instead of pant. 

“Need help walking?” Neville carefully stepped closer to Harry, offering an arm to him. Out of the children, Neville seemed to be fairing the best, whereas Hermione appeared almost as well.

Harry accepted it, giving him a thankful look. “You mind sharing some of that internal magic which you have so much of while you are at it?” 

“I’d love to, but I don’t think that is possible.” Neville slid under Harry’s arm, supporting him. 

The group continued to walk towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, slowly making their way to their goal. The big, black dog followed, panting in pain but determined to come with them. 

They reached the door, Harry separated from his friend’s shoulder before turning towards all three of them. “I will check if dad is back yet, he might be in Professor Snape’s office. I don’t want to crowd him, and he might not… I mean…” He stumbled and stopped, trying once more. “This has always been his biggest fear, transforming and putting me in danger. He might not even be able to look at me right now, which is why I have so see him. I have to tell him that he didn’t attack me. That he stood face to face with me and didn’t hurt me.” He stared at them, feeling himself tearing up with emotions. Harry closed his eyes to breathe, when he opened them, his eyes were both passionate and determined. “This is very important to me. I will not let him think he is a monster, no matter what the world is trying to tell him. He needs to know that he would never hurt me.” 

Hermione’s eyes turned wet as well as she lifted her hands up over her mouth, nodding as well. “You have to tell him.” She agreed, her voice thick with emotion. “You have to tell him he isn’t a monster.” 

He smiled at her, his other friends nodding at him as well. Harry turned towards the door and opened it. Somehow, he expected Black to remain outside with his friends, yet the dog had other plans. As soon as the door opened, it slipped inside, limping inside the office. He objected but the animal wasn’t stopping. It hobbled right up to the door in the back, where it waited for Harry to come open said door. Harry shut the door behind them, walking up to the door and knocked on it. 

“Dad?” He asked, waiting for an answer. 

Instead of his dad’s voice, Professor Snape answered. “Come in, Lupin.” 

Harry opened the door, causing Black to enter before him. Inside, he found the Professor in question and his dad. Remus had been lying down on the bed, without a shirt, and wearing soft pajama trousers. His head was resting on a pillow which had been placed in the Potions Master’s lap. From what Harry could tell from the scene of his dad on his stomach on the bed, Professor Snape had been using magic to help heal the wounds on the werewolf's back and arms, just like when he had helped Weasley to stop bleeding. 

Harry didn’t know a lot about healing magic, but he knew that it was an immensely complex type of magic which required extensive anatomical knowledge to perform. It was very likely that the werewolf didn’t feel capable of visiting the hospital wing after his transformation, either because he didn’t feel like he deserved it or because he was too frightened of what would meet him if he was to seek help from someone who wasn’t his old friend. The Potions Master stopped the werewolf from getting up. 

“Thank you for coming.” The Head of the Slytherin House was honest as he spoke to the boy. 

Remus looked at Harry with guilt and pain, then he lowered himself down back onto the pillow, swallowing back his emotions as he hid once more. He was only able to look at his son for a few seconds before having to look away from him. 

Black didn’t hesitate. The dog walked straight up to the bed and licked the hand of its old friend, its tail wagging behind him. 

The man swallowed, reaching out to touch the animal’s face. “I… I’m sorry…” He mumbled. “I’m so sorry, I…” 

The dog licked his hand once more, shaking its head and whimpered in response. It sat down, resting its head on the bed while slowly wagging its tail. 

“Dad.” Harry spoke up, trying to make the man look at him. “I have to tell you something. I know you feel bad, I know you feel guilty. I understand. But you have to know that I did meet you, it, the werewolf, call it whatever you like.” 

Remus looked up like he had been hit, his eyes beginning to fill with tears. The Potions Master didn’t let him get up, despite him trying. “Remus, you need to hear this.” The Legilimens told the man. “You have to listen.” 

“But I...I…” Remus objected in a weak manner. 

“No, dad, you don’t understand.” Harry retorted. “It didn’t hurt me. It was right there, right in front of me. It recognised me. You recognised me. You didn’t hurt me, you ran past me without touching me.” 

Remus stared at him, the tears were running down his cheeks as he looked into his son’s eyes. “W-what…?” He whispered, his voice not strong enough for more than one word. 

“I’ve spoken to it every month for at least seven years. It heard my voice. It knew that it was me, and it didn’t hurt me.” Harry reinforced. 

This time, the Potions Master allowed the father to get up and walk over to his child. He more or less fell to his knees before the boy, hugging him close to his chest. Harry wasn’t sure how to embrace him back seeing the fact that the man’s arms, neck and back were covered in partly healed wounds and scratches. Remus held Harry close, unable to stop the tears of the sobs which escaped him. 

“Dad?” Harry continued, hugging him back but made sure to not squeeze him too hard. “I managed to cast the Patronus Charm.” 

“Y-you… d-d-did…?” The man managed to sob out, pulling back to look at his son. He fell back, sitting down before the child. He lifted a hand to rub some tears from his cheeks, trying to smile at him. 

“Yeah, he saved the life of himself, me, Nessie and… Uh, the last one who looks like Sn...aape. Snape.” Black had transformed back into his human self, leaning against the bed while sitting on the cold stone floor. The sight of the prisoner next to the Potions Master was strange to Harry who didn’t really know the men, even if he felt as if he was starting to get to know Professor Snape. At least Black tried to be better by not calling his former bully victim by a degrading nickname. Although he did technically call him an ape by accident. 

“I’m so proud of you.” The werewolf sobbed, smiling at the boy with an honest look of pride. 

Harry smiled at the man. “It’s a very rare patronus.” He took a deeper breath. “It’s a werewolf.” 

Remus blinked at the boy, slowly lifting his hand to place it over his mouth. For a long time, he stared at his son before his eyes began overflowing with tears. He began to sob once more, this time hiding in his hands. Harry wasn’t sure what to do, he felt like he might have made a mistake. He opened his mouth to apologise, yet Professor Snape spoke up before Harry had the chance to. 

“Remus. You didn’t hurt you son, you didn’t hurt anyone except Black, who attacked you first.” The Potions Professor tried to reason with the werewolf. 

“I did attack you first. Bit your neck. Probably triggered a fight response in you… There might have been a better way but I couldn’t think of it.” Black agreed. He was clearly not upset in the least about having been wounded by the werewolf. 

“You have raised a son with so much love and compassion that his patronus has taken shape after you. His patronus taking the shape of a werewolf isn’t in any way an insult or a fault of your character. It is the highest praise. Not only does your son love you, he loves you so very much that his internal magic takes your shape, the shape of that which his mind subconsciously expects will protect him.” Professor Snape continued, getting up to move over to Remus, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t sit on the floor, at least return to your bed and allow me to look over your wounds.”

The man allowed himself to be guided towards the bed once more, sitting down upon it while trying to gather himself and failing. It seemed like the information was overloading the man to a point of not quite being able to coherently answer. Black scratched his own forehead, apparently having trouble with where to look. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. Then again, neither did Harry. 

“Thank you for saving my life, dad.” Harry spoke up, smiling at the man while awkwardly balancing at the soles of his feet. “If you hadn’t taught us the Patronus Charm, well… Uh, this isn’t helping… is it?” He found himself laughing nervously. 

The werewolf shook his head. “No, no… You’re helping a lot, Harry.” He assured his son through his sobs. “I’m just… I don’t know… I’m feeling so many things right now, and I can’t stop crying… I’m sorry for being a mess once again…” 

Black chuckled, absent-mindedly twisting some of his dirty hair between his fingers. “You’ve probably held that back for years.” 

Remus looked over at him, sniffing as he looked over the man’s wounds. “Sirius, I’m so sor-”

“I heard you the first time. Don’t sweat it.” The future therapy dog waved his concern away. “I bit you too, you know.” 

“I bit you?” The werewolf sounded panicked. He tried to get up from his position on the bed, yet Professor Snape made him sit down once more. 

“Nah, just scratches. Werewolves seem far more prone to use their hands than their mouths.” Black demonstrated by pretending to claw the air in front of himself. “I was too small for it to try and bite, it would place it closer to me biting its throat. The bigger thing would rather push the smaller enemy over than give it free access to its throat.” Black let his hands fall to the side. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You don’t look fine.” Remus objected, albeit weakly. 

“I’ve been treated. Also I’m apparently hired here.” Black grinned. “I’m going to be a therapy dog for a while, I guess. They will keep on treating my wounds as, uh, what did Dumbledore name me again?” He looked at Harry for help. 

“Snuffles.” The boy responded. 

“Yeah, they will treat Snuffles wounds. So mine will be treated too.” Black summarised. He was silent for a while, looking around the bedroom and towards the office. “Somehow. it didn’t occur to me that you are a Professor. I feel like I should have realised it sooner, but it only felt natural that you would be there in the Shack, you know. Didn’t even realise that you had to be hired to be at Hogwarts at your age.” Black sheepishly smiled up at the man. 

“Remus, lay back down, I have to look over your wounds.” Professor Snape interrupted the man as Harry shook his head at Black’s words. “I would be better to let Madam Pomfrey look over you, but since you are refusing, at least allow me to do this correctly.” 

The werewolf sighed, surrendering to the treatment by lying back down on the Potions Master’s lap, closing his eyes as the man lifted his wand over his back, beginning to close his wounds with the use of a soft blue magic. It was evident on the werewolf’s face that the magic both hurt and soothed him.

“Dad?” Harry spoke up to get the man’s attention, causing him to lift his head and look at him. “My friends are here, outside the door. They would like to see you, as they are also worried about you.” He continued. 

His father looked more than a little shocked at the notion, seemingly embarrassed and guilty. “...They… I… ughn…” Remus stopped speaking before he turned his head away from Harry, capturing the Potions Master in a hug, hiding his face against his waist. Professor Snape let out a strange, seemingly surprised, noise, which made Black laugh his intrusive and loud laugh once more. Snape sent him a dark glare, but then moved his hand over the werewolf’s head, petting him. 

Harry couldn’t help but to feel like his dad was far more a mess this day after the full moon than when he saw him during the Holidays. It seemed the potion truly did make that much of a difference. Unlike Black, he wasn’t reacting much to the closeness between the two Professors, it mostly felt like something his dad truly needed and deserved. 

“How many years has it been for you? I’ve never seen you this close, even when you were dating.” The escapee from Azkaban giggled, half hiding his grin behind a dirty hand. 

“Black…” The Potions Professor sighed. 

“I’m quiet, I’m quiet.” The man raised his hands, smirking to himself. “You look cute together.” 

Remus groaned, moving a foot to push against the back of Black’s head in a gentle but firm gesture to make him stop. Black snickered again, but didn’t say anything more. 

With permission from his dad, Harry went to get his friends. At first, Remus weakly objected, but Professor Snape assured him that it was for the best to see his students. They all entered somewhat awkwardly, gathered in the small bedroom, where Remus was still lying in the other Professor’s lap, his wounds being taken care of by the other mage. It was clear that he was feeling more than a little embarrassed, not only from what had happened the previous night, but due to not being even remotely close to presentable. Black might have chosen to stay in his human shape so that his old friend wouldn’t be alone in being wounded and unpresentable. Or he might just want to be involved in the conversation. It was hard to tell with him. 

“How are you feeling, Professor Lupin?” Neville was the first one to ask. He wasn’t an especially close student to the man, yet Remus had introduced him to and helped him discover the concept of internal magic, which he was very grateful for. 

“I’m getting better.” The man smiled weakly at the children gathered. “I’m very sorry for not wearing a shirt.” He quickly apologised, but they all collectively shook their heads. 

“We’re glad that you are being treated, sir.” Malfoy spoke for their entire group, earning another weak smile from the werewolf. 

“Thank you.” The man mumbled. 

“Professor?” Hermione waited for permission to speak. “We wanted to come speak to you because we wished to tell you that you didn’t hurt any of us last night. Me, Neville, Malfoy and Weasley were all out of reach, you weren’t even close to us.”

“In fact, Black caused more damage to a student in his attack on Weasley than you were even close to do to any one of us.” Malfoy pointed out, causing his distant cousin to flinch and look away. 

“I know, I know… I’ll figure out a way to make it up to him.” Black mumbled. 

“And!” Hermione continued. “Anyone who could possibly think that you are dangerous because of what happened last night is wrong! We do not blame you in any way, and we honestly do believe you to be the best teacher we have here at Hogwarts.” She spoke with a lot of passion, her fists clenched as she continued speaking. “None of us have changed our opinion on you, and it would be a direct insult to Professor Snape to ignore everything he said during his lecture based on fear. Please do not blame yourself for what happened, nobody here does.”

“Yes, it was not your fault. Weasley said so too, and that he would come here and prove it if he could walk as of currently,” Neville agreed. 

There was a bit of a pause. Remus seemed both overwhelmed, embarrassed and relieved. At least from what Harry could tell. 

Malfoy looked like he wanted to speak but hesitated, licking his lips as he walked through his words inside his head before allowing them to leave his lips. “I believe that it is only fair of me to be as honest as I can. Had I known about your condition previously, there is a big risk that I would never have gotten close to your son in the first place. I… believe my family might be very upset, were they to know what had happened last night.” 

Harry felt his heart sink in his chest, a cold feeling of betrayal washing over him, chilling him to his spine. He looked at the other boy, terrified over what would leave his lips next. 

“Professor Lupin, when I was younger, well, before I met your son, I used to think that werewolves were terrifying.” Malfoy continued, causing Remus to look away. “But like everything else in my life that I have been bigoted and wrong about… Lupin taught me better.” Malfoy looked at Harry, there was shame in his eyes, he was ashamed over the way he had been, the ways he had thought, yet he was continuing to speak honestly. He was trying to be better, despite the fact that his pride made it hard for him. Perhaps that was why he spoke up in the first place, to try and overcome the pride which made it hard to admit his faults. 

“The last three years, I think… I have grown a lot. Knowing Lupin, being taught what his father taught him, I… A lot of things are very different in my life than how I imagined them to be when I was younger. Professor Snape’s lecture helped as well, of course.” Malfoy played with his cufflinks. “Whatever my family might say, I intend to remain a friend to the Lupins. I strongly believe that Harry Lupin has changed everything about me for the better, and he has nothing but the highest admiration for his father. You suffering from Lycanthrophy does nothing to diminish my admiration for you, Professor Lupin.”

Harry threw himself around his best friend’s neck before anyone could say anything, hugging him close with all the strength he could currently not use to hug his wounded dad. Malfoy almost tipped over, yet managed to stand his ground. The blonde mage looked surprised, before he smiled and hugged the other boy back. 

“Did you think my friendship is so weak that I’d leave just like that?” Malfoy whispered into his ear, subtly enough that only Harry would hear him.

The son of a werewolf giggled back, unable to control the noise of relief which escaped him. 

The blonde mage pulled back, giving the smaller boy as a grin. “I’ve jumped into too many mad adventures with you to be bothered by a sickness. If anything, I’m mostly in completely disbelief that I didn’t figure it out sooner…” He admitted in a slightly grumpy tone, then sighed almost dramatically. 

Black clicked his tongue loudly, reminding the two friends that they weren’t alone. The two of them blinked before quickly stepping back from one another. Harry felt his face heat with embarrassment, although he didn’t quite know why he felt so embarrassed in the first place. Maybe it was because he had forgotten every single other person in that room in his happiness over Malfoy accepting his dad for what he was without a trace of bigotry. Malfoy wasn’t blushing per say, but he was playing with his cufflinks once more, looking away from Harry. 

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy.” Remus gave him another weak smile, although this one was far more gentle and less tense than the previous one. 

“Malfoy?” Black echoed before anyone could respond. “Not Black?” He looked at Remus, as if he had the answers. 

“My mother married my father, Lucius Malfoy, making her Narcissa Malfoy, not Narcissa Black.” Malfoy responded, seemingly slightly annoyed to not have been asked directly. 

“Oh yeah… She did have an arranged marriage to Malloy. I forgot.” He clicked his tongue again, resting his head in his hand with a distant look on his face. 

“It’s Malfoy. Foy, not loy.” The prisoner’s distant cousin objected. 

Black waved him away, remaining deep in thought. 

“Either way… Will you be alright, Professor Lupin?” Hermione asked the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. “Do your wounds hurt?” 

“I will be fine, Severus is very proficient in this type of magic.” The man nodded at her. 

“Will you… Leave Hogwarts now…?” Neville asked as carefully as he could, voicing the question which hung unasked by all of them. 

The werewolf hesitated long enough for Professor Snape to speak up first. “You have committed no crimes. You are not legally to blame for your actions as a werewolf, unlike an animagus would be.” He didn’t look at Black but the man flinched either way, returning to looking guilty. “Professor Dumbledore is not going to remove you from your post, he has already confirmed this.”

“I… I… I’m afraid I don’t know currently… Mr. Longbottom.” Remus ended up stammering out an answer. 

The boy looked guilty for asking, opening and closing his mouth before choosing to close it again. His gaze settled on the floor, where he stared without knowing what to say next. 

“I will… Think… about what to do… I don’t… know yet.” The werewolf tried once more before he stopped and took a deep breath. “You should not feel guilty. You simply asked, it… Was not a bad question.” He smiled, despite the expression being strained, it looked honest. “Five points to Gryffindor.” 

Neville smiled weakly in return. “Thank you… Professor.” 

“You students should return to your respective dormitories.” Professor Snape addressed the group. “Many things have happened, refrain from speaking to anyone before you’ve seen the Headmaster tomorrow. Allow no classmates, teachers, staff or Aurors to question with you about the night which just passed before you’ve seen him. This situation is delicate, and it must be handled as such. Sleep for as long as you need, then report to his office when you wake up. The Headmaster is sure to provide you with food no matter what hour it is.” He stopped and looked down at Black. “You have been requested to see him immediately.” 

“Alone?” Black responded, looking displeased with the notion. 

“Yes. Lupin and Malfoy, if you could let the dog into the Headmaster’s office and then return to your dormitory, that would be much appreciated.” The Potions Master continued. “The password is ‘atonement.’”

Black made a face before he transformed back into his animagus shape, slowly beginning to limp towards the door. He surrendered before either Slytherin student could agree to take him. The children followed him out, wishing Remus a speedy recovery and a good night. Harry told his dad that he would see him the next day and then left alongside his friends and Godfather.

The entire group walked Black to the Headmaster’s office, wished each other good night before walking their separate ways to their common rooms. Harry and Malfoy returned to their dormitories, nobody woke up when they entered. The son of a werewolf began to head towards his bed, yet the other boy stopped him and pulled him along to his own. 

“I’ve been through a lot too…” Malfoy mumbled, subtly enough that nobody could hear him but Harry. “If you don’t stay with me, I won’t be able to sleep.” He sighed, appearing to be uncomfortable in admitting to his weakness once more. 

Harry didn’t object to the idea of sleeping next to another warm body, thus didn’t mind in the least to not have to sleep in his own bed. Despite having rested for most of last night, Harry fell asleep quickly, almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. The last thing he remembered was hoping that he didn’t forget to take off his socks before going to bed, although he really wasn’t sure if he had or not. 


	26. Chapter 25 - In which Luna Lovegood explains the meaning behind her name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After roughly a week, the questions began. He could be anywhere or do anything, when a person he had never seen before would start calling out questions about him and his dad. People would approach him carefully anywhere, and simply blurt out questions about Remus, werewolves, as well as their private lives to him. 

Harry and Malfoy woke up the same day around midday. Harry had technically slept throughout most of the night before being woken up by the Aurors in the hospital wing, but his body was more than happy to simply go back to sleep.

The rest of the Slytherin students in their dormitory had noticed that they had been gone, but they didn’t know why they had been gone. Harry and Malfoy couldn’t give them an answer, as Professor Snape had specifically instructed them not to speak to anyone before they had spoken to Professor Dumbledore. Thus, they left without explaining anything, leaving their friends confused and questioning.

In the Headmaster’s office, they found Snuffles and the old man, alongside Hermione, Weasley and Neville. The three Gryffindor students had apparently been there for a while, and had finished their breakfast since long. Weasley had supposedly been helped there in a wheelchair, as he was sitting in one, located as far away from the resting dog as possible. 

As Harry and Malfoy entered, Snuffles looked up and hurried over to them, its tail wagging behind it as it walked up to Harry, expecting to be petted. The son of a werewolf wasn’t sure if other people petted their Godfathers, but he didn’t think that was a common thing. Then again, most people’s Godfathers weren’t dogs. Harry surrendered to giving its head a small pap. It seemed to make it happy. 

“Mr. Lupin, Mr. Malfoy.” The Headmaster greeted them, showing towards the two empty chairs which were seemingly waiting for them. “What would you like for breakfast, or as I’ve been recently informed by Ms. Granger that Muggles call it, brunch?” 

“Brunch?” Harry blinked, leaning his head to the side as his Dogfather curled up next to him, seemingly happy to keep him company. 

“It’s just breakfast and lunch combined into one word, brunch.” Hermione explained in a quick manner. Given the fact that she was used to explaining Muggle concepts to Malfoy, she was rather good at giving short and concrete explanations by now. 

“Awfully clever, Muggles are.” The old wizard nodded to himself, smiling. “Now, for breakfast, what would you like.” 

“Eggs, bacon and beans?” Harry asked, trying to make his request seem more polite by making it a question. 

“I’d like some scones and marmalade. Some sweet but not too sweet marmalade, please.” Malfoy’s request was far better than Harry’s, earning him a side eye which was actually a plea to be given some of his awareness and eloquence. Malfoy through his glance meant that he wanted some scones as well. “May I have one with pumpkin marmalade as well?”

Two plates hovered over to the two boys, filling with the food which they had requested. A fork was given to Harry, alongside napkins for both of them. They began to eat, as the casual conversation continued between the Headmaster and the students. After the two had finished their brunch, they surrendered the plates and were offered tea instead. Hermione and Weasley asked for one more cup as well, but Neville declined. 

“Students, I have called you here to discuss what happened yesterday. I understand that it was a very stressful and frightening situation, and I want you to know that there are professionals to help with the emotional weight of it all, should you need it. With that said… the situation is quite complicated. I have discussed in detail with Severus, Professor Lupin, as well as the man in question. From the evidence gathered, it is my conclusion that Sirius Black is innocent of the crimes which he was convicted of twelve years ago. I have two adults who can confirm the confession from Peter Pettigrew, the real criminal of the assisted murder on the Potter family, and the seemingly unwilling murder of the twelve Muggles from twelve years ago as well. However, there are multiple complications.” The old man who had been sitting behind his desk stood up, beginning to slowly pace around the room. 

“The first complication lies in the statute of limitation. Enough years has passed that no more evidence is likely to be found, which will make it very hard to convince the Ministry of Magic to retry the case. The second problem lies in the two witnesses. One is a werewolf, although he is a valued Professor, a beloved father and a very good man.” Professor Dumbledore continued, calmly wandering around his office. “Further, he is a well recorded friend of the accused criminal, which makes the Ministry less likely to believe his words. There is also Severus’ testimony. He should be a good witness, yet he is also recorded to be personally involved with Black in his younger days, which might place his testimony in question as well. It is not as big of a complication than the previous one, but the Ministry might discard his testimony based on relation to Black.”

“But they haven’t had any contact for years, how could they still refuse a witness?” Hermione objected to the man’s words. 

He looked towards her, his expression shifting into a complicated one. Harry could recognise guilt and pain, yet there was more to the old man’s face which he couldn’t read. “That would lead us to the third complication, Mr. Black has managed to break into Hogwarts two times, whereas the third time, he wounded a student and kidnapped two.”

Black whimpered next to Harry, as the son of a werewolf exchanged looks with Malfoy. 

“Who else did he kidnap?” Malfoy asked.

“That would be me.” Hermione nervously twirled her hair, absently looking down at the floor. “Since I grabbed onto Weasley, it apparently counts as both of us.” 

“Oh…” Harry nodded with understanding. 

Black whimpered once more. 

“There have been a lot of rumors in regards to how Mr. Black managed to enter the school in the first place, without the man’s own testimony, it will be hard to prove that he entered through the many secret passages in Hogwarts. Not to mention that his state of mind would make him questionable as a reliable witness. With the uncertainties regarding Mr. Black, two men coming forward to protect him after he kidnapped two children and endangered a total of five, the Ministry might try to use the two Professors testimony against them, claiming that they were his accomplices all along.” The Headmaster finished. 

“What about our testimony? We saw and heard everything, both with Black and Pettigrew.” Neville spoke up, his words filling the silence. 

The old wizard sat down by his desk once more, shaking his head slowly but firmly. “You are all too young, you cannot legally witness. Your memories are considered unreliable due to your age, even if they did show the exact same scene, it still could not be used as evidence in a trial. There are cases where your testimony has value, even at such a young age. Your words would be adhered to in terms of the kidnapping, but if you do claim that Mr. Black is innocent, especially after a kidnapping has been confirmed, you would be considered traumatised and confused. It might have been different had the case not been this difficult and sensitive in the first place, but the Ministry has every reason to try to deny you in this case.” 

“At this state, the Ministry of Magic isn’t likely to open any retrials as long as Pettigrew isn’t present and confirmed to be alive by more people.” The Headmaster sighed, appearing to be rather tired, yet it was hard to tell if his frustration was in regards to the Ministry or something else. “See, for there to be a retrial in the first place, the Ministry would have to admit to the public that they made a mistake and imprisoned the wrong man. They have been humiliated by Mr. Black’s escape, it has also caused great unrest and fear among the people, which is why they are more than likely to surrender Mr. Black to the Dementor’s kiss rather than allow any sort of retrial or discussion about his guilt.” 

As he finished, a heavy silence fell over the room. Nobody quite knew where to look as the crushing defeat of realisation weighted them down. Harry stared at his shoes, trying to think of anything else to say or do, yet his thoughts felt blank. He didn’t really like Black. The man was clearly not stable, he saw them all as versions of people he had used to know, he was vulgar and intrusive, not to mention prone to violence. Still… he didn’t seem like an altogether bad person. The man seemed to mean a lot to his dad, despite everything. He was also innocent of that which had condemned him, meaning that all the mental damage which had come from his years in Azkaban was no fault of his. He wasn’t innocent, yet for him to die when all the evidence seemed to suggest that he wasn’t guilty made Harry feel severely uncomfortable. 

“...I do agree with you all.” The Headmaster continued speaking, as if he had read their minds. “I would not see an innocent man condemned on wrongful evidence. Thus… what I am about to ask is not legal, and I apologise for even suggesting this to you. That being said… If you wish to save Mr. Black, there is a way.” 

It surprised Harry when Malfoy was the one to speak up first, without hardly any hesitation. “What would you have us do?” He looked at the Headmaster, leaning forward in the chair as he awaited instructions. 

Harry glanced down at his Dogfather, then nodded. “I want to help him too. Even if it isn’t legal, he hasn’t actually committed the crime which he is accused of. For him to lose his life based on that is… Wrong.” 

Hermione nodded as well. “I feel the same as Harry. Bl- ah, Mr. Black is not guilty of murder, and the Dementor’s kiss is such a horrible punishment, I refuse to subject anyone to it. It is just too cruel.” 

“I agree.” Neville sighed, looking somewhat conflicted. “I can’t in good conscience just close my eyes to the wrong. That… rat was right there. The guilty one… and he got away.” On his legs, his hands became fists as he squeezed the fabric of his trousers. He continued speaking through clenched teeth. “He destroyed so many lives… Just running away from that and letting an innocent man suffer for it… it disgusts me.” 

Harry recalled that Neville had lost both his parents to the whims of cruel Death Eaters, sacrificing them for their own ends. It was little wonder that it was harder for Neville to in any way find sympathy for Pettigrew. 

Everyone in the room slowly turned to Weasley where he sat in his wheelchair, holding on to a half empty cup of tea. He seemed surprised when he realised that everyone’s eyes were on him. “What? Of course I agree with all of you. The Wizarding World are all morons, at least the higher ups in the Ministry. They don’t care about anything but results, and they don’t care what comes between them and their goal.” He huffed, looking annoyed. The boy might be mimicking something which his dad had said previously, as it sounded like something he had heard many times before. 

Albus Dumbledore nodded, looking over his students and the dog, whose tail was wagging back and forth with happiness. “Then here is what will happen. Yesterday, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger were kidnapped by Sirius Black. Remus Lupin noticed the kidnapping from a window, and hurried to retrieve Severus Snape so as to not face Black alone. By the time the two men arrived, Mr. Lupin, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Malfoy had already run to their friends’ rescue. Well inside the Shrieking Shack where Black brought his kidnapped victims, the two men managed to subdue him after some time. When you all turned to leave, Mr. Lupin transformed into a werewolf. He ended up wounding Black before running into the Forbidden Forest. Mr. Lupin, the son, followed a wounded Black and helped care for his wounds, thus saving his life. During this time, the Dementors caught up to them, whereas Mr. Lupin and Mr. Longbottom, alongside assistance from Mr. Malfoy, managed to respectively cast the Patronus Charm and chase the Dementors away.”

It felt utterly bizarre for the children to have someone retell the events of the previous night in so few words, summarising all the horror, stress and panic into a few sentences. The hours had felt endless, and yet it was such a short summary. Still, they all nodded, trying to memorise what had just been said. 

“Your classmates and fellow students will not know all that happened, and it is uncertain at this point in time how much information will leak to them. However, I encourage that you do not speak of the events, and if you must, be dismissive and unclear. Claim that you do not wish to speak of it, or do not remember clearly. Do not speak about it to any adult who claims to be from the Ministry or _The Daily Prophet._ Nobody can legally demand that you speak to them, or can they demand your cooperation, or that you speak the truth.” The Headmaster continued. “What will happen next is that Mr. Black will be spotted far away, travelling to a different country. He has agreed to donate hair for some Polyjuice elixir, with the help of my contacts, I will make sure that Sirius Black is spotted far away, and in another country.” 

The dog wagged its tail once more, turning towards Harry. It put its big head onto Harry’s lap, looking up at him with excited and expectant eyes. The boy licked his lips, feeling awkward once more as he petted his Dogfather on the head. 

The Headmaster was silent for a while, staring at Harry before speaking up once more. “Snuffles will be staying at Hogwarts for at least the end of this study year. I have no intentions of removing Professor Lupin from the staff at Hogwarts. I truly hope that he will agree to returning to the school next term.” 

Harry bit his lip, slowly nodding. “Thank you, Professor.” He whispered, feeling a horrible dread rise in his chest. He was very worried about his dad, now that his deepest fears had been realised. 

> ### A Werewolf at Hogwarts!
> 
> by Rita Skeeter
> 
> Most shocking discoveries are unfolding at Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry! Not only has the school previously been terrorised by the presence of the Heir of Slytherin, this year, the notorious criminal and mass murderer Sirius Black has been terrorising the school and its students. Yet, while most parents and the school’s inhabitants feared the threat from outside, little did they know that the threat was already on the inside! 
> 
> Remus Lupin, formerly unemployed, was revealed to be a werewolf, as he transformed in front of students last Friday, placing both the students and a fellow professor in great danger. This werewolf has been active at Hogwarts since the beginning of the 1993 term, teaching the Defense Against the Dark Arts subject. For over half a year, this dangerous individual has been teaching at Hogwarts, without any consent from the students’ parents. Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, has been heavily criticised for certain decisions he has made regarding the school and staff members, yet the employment of a werewolf is a step too far, according to many concerned parents. Many of which are calling for the removal of the werewolf, effective immediately. 
> 
> Read more on page 5. 

In hindsight, it was impossible to know who leaked the secret of the werewolf, and if anyone had actually contacted the newspaper, or if they had learnt of the predicament without anyone specifically telling them. Harry badly wanted someone to blame but there truly wasn’t anyone to turn his wrath towards, other than the woman who had written the article, and moon itself. Cursing the moon truly wasn’t very productive, thus Harry tried his best to remain reasonable. However, the change which followed the reveal was so very prominent in Harry’s life that it was hard to remain calm and reasonable.

People started avoiding Harry, much more than when he had been suspected to be the Heir of Slytherin. He heard whispers all around him. People would spot him in a corridor, turn, and then walk the other way, rather than pass him. Some even seemed to run. With the exception of Malfoy, Hermione, Neville and now Weasley, nobody really wanted to approach him. Even by the Slytherin table or in class, people seemed to avoid him at a set radius of at least two meters. Needless to say, Harry found himself very uncomfortable with their behavior, and disgusted by their bigotry. 

Blaise was staying far away from him, as was Nott but Harry wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the boy wanting to be close to Blaise or if he was fearing him. At first, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinsson stayed away from him as well, but there was a quick and surprising change in them coming up to Harry to apologise. The group told him that they had raised the issue with Hagrid and been scolded for the way they were behaving, prompting them to realise their behavior as unacceptable. Apparently Hagrid had started passionately ranting about the Wizarding World’s abuse and misinformation of magical creatures and how wrong it was to treat the creature wrongly based on its nature. Harry wasn’t too comfortable with Hagrid spreading misinformation and talking about his dad like an animal, but in the current situation, at least his intentions were better than many others. 

After roughly a week, the questions began. He could be anywhere or do anything, when a person he had never seen before would start calling out questions about him and his dad. People would approach him carefully anywhere, and simply blurt out questions about Remus, werewolves, as well as their private lives to him. 

At first, Harry thought it was relieving. Just like with his friends, questions provided an opportunity to correct misinformation and actively change misconceptions. Harry tried to be comparatively open, but not too open, seeking to only give scientific answers. He worked hard on assuring everyone that his dad was a great man who had never harmed him or anyone else, except for Black and Snuffles, who both attacked him first.

Yet, it was quickly proven that his answers were not what the people expected of him. They evidently didn’t want the truth, they didn’t want explanations or assurance, they wanted Remus to be bad. They wanted him to be dangerous. They didn’t look for reasons to not fear him, they sought confirmation that he was to be feared. Harry didn’t think they actively knew they wanted his dad to be bad, but it was very clear that they had already made up their minds about something, and weren’t able to change their misconceptions.

“Has he ever killed anyone?” 

“How many people has he infected?”

“Has he broken out of the cage?” 

“Did he ever try to bite you?” 

“Do you have scars from him attacking you?” 

The questions were becoming more uncomfortable. More intrusive. Far too frequent. Harry couldn’t simply tell them that there was no point in breaking out of the cage since the werewolf wasn’t aggressive and wouldn’t want to break it in the first place, it wasn’t what they had asked for, and when he tried, it was very evident that they struggled with adjusting to something so opposed of the idea they already had. They had already decided that the cage was the only thing holding the monster back, and thus Harry’s answers were not satisfactory. All the questions came with presumptions of circumstances, and when those were not spoken either for or against, they weren’t prepared to listen anymore, it became too challenging. 

Harry was becoming highly uncomfortable as soon as anyone he didn’t know approached him, because he knew that the following conversation was going to be one he didn’t want to have. He felt pressured by every question, as if it was solely on him to prove that werewolves weren’t dangerous. He started to become frightened to speak of the subject, as any misplaced word or clumsy phrasing might lead to people deciding that every single werewolf was bad. After all, most of the people had just decided to take his words, and didn’t seem to understand that Harry and Remus couldn’t possibly account for all werewolves, or even a majority. Yet he feared that not speaking would cause everyone to draw the wrong conclusions as well. Damned if he spoke, damned if he didn’t speak. 

His friends noticed Harry becoming more drawn back and frightened by the world. They noticed him flinching upon being addressed by anyone, even by teachers. Malfoy realised that his fellow Slytherin was speaking in his sleep, endlessly defending werewolves and emphasising that his dad “wasn’t like that.” It was becoming very clear that Harry was at the verge of his limits, but luckily, he had friends to help him. 

Malfoy, Neville, Hermione, and also Weasley, who has awkwardly begun to spend more time with them, decided to speak up for Harry instead. As soon as someone came up to him, the other students would speak in Harry’s stead, directing the person’s questions towards Professor Snape, seeing the man was an authority on the subject. Some older students demanded to hear directly from Harry, yet Malfoy was far too politically aware to allow someone older to trample over him. He was able to twist their words until they gave up and left. However, their behavior made it clear that they didn’t actually want to ask Professor Snape, they just wanted to know private things from the boy who happened to be the son of a werewolf. Once it was asked of them to go search for accurate and real facts, they lost interest, as it wouldn’t be an easy way to confirm their beliefs.

One of the more memorable moments of Malfoy proving to Harry that he was no longer prejudiced against werewolves came when Prefect Weasley brought the subject up with Harry, under the guise of being understanding. They were studying in the library, and the teenager had come up to them to speak to his younger brother, leading to a discussion about Remus’ condition.

“I am not questioning the Headmaster’s decisions.” Prefect Weasly said. “I simply believe that we all had the right to know. Keeping the truth from us in the first place is what caused this situation. Had we known from the beginning, the shock wouldn’t have been so prominent, and this whole mess could have been avoided.” 

“Because you are entitled to another man’s secrets, is that what you are saying?” Malfoy all but snapped at the older student. “You have the right to know, simply because you want it? Lupin’s father has struggled with his condition all his life, and he is beyond frightened by himself, as you well know, but you think that you have the right to that information, despite Professor Lupin’s feelings on the subject? You think you have the right to your own teachers' most private matters?” 

The teenager gaped at the young Slytherin student, but then caught himself, responding to his words. “It is a serious, dangerous ailment. It affects us too, so we should know it beforehand to allow us to handle the situation better.” 

“It does not affect you in the least.” Malfoy stared at the older student, his wrath barely held back as his gaze burrowed into the Gryffindor student. “You are not asked to ‘handle’ any situation. The one time it could have possibly been relevant would be the night of a full moon, where the man is far out of your reach and has nothing to do with you. When did you last see any professor at the night of a full moon? In fact, your inssenent need to know and the speed with which you want to condemn him for his secrecy makes you prejudiced. This is the reason you weren’t allowed to know, you wouldn’t be making informed decisions based on facts, you are looking for reasons to be upset. If the general reaction towards werewolves was better, he would have no reason to keep it a secret. Yet as it is now, every single reaction which isn’t acceptance is negative, and frankly, you are contributing to it.” 

“But-” Prefect Weasley tried to defend himself, objecting to the idea that he was hurting someone with his behavior, which the teenager himself considered to be an adult’s reasoning. 

“Perc.” The younger brother Weasley objected to his brother’s words, carefully entering the discussion, but still with a firm voice. “Mom and dad wouldn’t like you talking like this. They have always been telling us that Professor Lupin is a great person, despite his flaws. Not that we expected them to be werewolf flaws, but yeah… Mom gave me a lecture about werewolves and being accepting towards them when she came to see me about my leg. Like Lupin said, his dad has had his potion all his life, he is probably the statistically safest werewolf there is to be around. He has never bitten anyone, and, well, Malfoy is right. You are kind of acting like a dingus when you try to say that you had the right to know based on wanting to know. It isn’t yours or anyone’s business, really.” 

Prefect Weasley found himself unable to answer his brother’s words. Instead, he closed his mouth, looking away from the group of students and hastily excused himself. 

Malfoy and Weasley looked at one another, both of them finding their borderline collaboration strange, yet they still accepted one another’s contribution. They nodded at one another, yet nobody found the words which to speak to the other. Harry felt very thankful towards the both of them, although he didn’t have time to express his gratitude before he was interrupted. 

“What a funny word ‘dingus.’” A soft, almost absent voice spoke up next to them. They all turned to find that a blonde girl was sitting by their table with them. Nobody quite knew when she had showed up, yet she absently smiled at them, her big eyes moving between them. “Is that a real word?” She mused, looking at Weasley. Harry sort of vaguely recognised her, and realised that she was that second year student who had managed to cast a corporeal patronus, despite her age.

“Uh… good question…” The red haired boy responded, blinking at her in return. 

She turned towards Harry, smiling softly at him. Harry tried to smile back, yet his expression was somewhat strained. He couldn’t help but feel worried about her asking him about his dad and werewolves. 

“My name is Luna Lovegood. You may call me Luna, although most people call me Loony. I don’t mind, but it isn’t my name.” She introduced herself before handing Harry a newspaper. “You seem to have had a very hard time, I thought you might want to see this.” 

Harry accepted it, looking down upon the first page with a strange feeling in his throat. The feeling dispersed as he read the header. 

> ### A Werewolf at Hogwarts - So what?
> 
> by Xenophilius Lovegood
> 
> According to _The Daily Prophet_ , and the students of Hogwarts, it appears that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Remus Lupin is a werewolf. While _The Prophet_ and our society might try and tell you that this is a bad thing, I am here to tell you that a werewolf at Hogwarts is the opposite of a problem. 
> 
> The presence of Remus Lupin at Hogwarts is an inspiration to many werewolves, who have been chased from society because of their unfortunate sickness and the bigotry of the mages around them. According to science, there are no reasons to fear a werewolf who isn’t in their shape of a wolf. Which only happens once a month, and with the help of the Lycanthropy Potion, they are harmless during those nights. 
> 
> The law is clearly at fault here, not Professor Remus Lupin. _The Quibbler_ supports the presence of a werewolf at Hogwarts and asks its readers to do the same. This special print of _The Quibbler_ is a full werewolf special, bringing you the latest information in regards to the sickness and informs you of why you should celebrate Albus Dumbledore as a progressive, noble man, who did not allow the legislations created many years ago to cloud his judgement.

Harry looked up from the newspaper, then slowly handed it to Hermione, who was sitting next to him. She accepted it and began to read, then passed it on to the next person. The son of a werewolf looked at the blonde girl, who slowly pulled some hair behind her ear, smiling at him with an absent look in her eyes. 

“My mom was a werewolf too. I say was, because she passed on when I was very little. I do remember her though. I remember playing with her as a werewolf when I was small. She was very gentle, like a big, hairless dog. Of course, she had taken her potion.” The girl explained, causing Harry to blink at her before his face slowly lit up. 

“Your mom was a werewolf? Really?” He couldn’t help but feel excited. “You’re the blood child of a werewolf and a mage?” 

“Mhm.” She nodded, her hair bobbing along with the movement. “I’m not a werewolf though. Sometimes I wish I was, so that I would have an excuse to go out running under the moon. But I’m not, so I can only bathe in the moonlight and think of mom. Dad and I sometimes have moonlight picnics, and imagine that mom's spirit is with us. It is very nice.” She smiled, dreaming herself away from the moment and back to pleasant memories. She snapped back from her daydreaming, and looked at Harry. “My name means moon. Mom picked the name. Dad has told me that it was because she loved the moon.”

Harry blinked at her, feeling how he was starting to get teary eyed. “You… mean to say that your werewolf mother loved the moon, despite what it did to her every month?” 

Luna Lovegood nodded. “She was sick. It was not the moon’s fault. She loved the moonlight, and didn’t blame things without emotion or intention for what could not be helped.” 

The son of a werewolf swallowed, rubbing some tears from his eyes before standing up. “I need to go see dad. I need to hug him. He probably needs it too… I- I just… See you all later…” He breathed out, feeling as a big smile formed on his lips. “Thank you, Lovegood. Luna… Thanks! I think your story will make my dad feel better. You’re great,” He hurried away from the library. 

_The Quibbler_ might be a small magazine, one which most found silly and not worth much. Yet the small glimmer of hope, the fact that the magazine was selling… It gave Harry hope. Hope he wished to share with his dad. However fickle, it was nonetheless hope for the future.


	27. Chapter 26 - In which Snuffles barks at bigots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weasley glanced at the dog, hesitated, and then leaned in to speak to said dog. “Hey? I’ve… heard that you like pranks? There is this teacher, Divination teacher, who has sort of been trying to scare me about this big, black dog all year… Do you think we could… Prank her together?” 

Surprisingly enough, for all the hardships which son and father Lupin were experiencing, Sirius Black provided nothing but pleasant company. In the shape of Snuffles, he followed Remus everywhere, and despite what the man might claim, he really needed a friend by his side. Snuffles proved to be a wonderful companion. 

The first lesson which Remus held after the reveal greeted him with an empty classroom. Throughout that entire week, the classrooms which had previously been filled with students who liked his lessons, became almost empty, except for a few students. It was incredibly disheartening for the man to continuously return to almost empty classrooms, where the few students who showed up remained sitting as far away from him as possible. The younger students returned to his classes, because they didn’t think they had any other choice. When they did show up, it was clear that they were nervous and didn’t want to remain far away from him. The older students knew that they didn’t actually have to be in the classroom, so they didn’t come. It seemed that the classes which most consistently showed up for their Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons were the third and fourth years which had both been subjected to Professor Snape's lesson and assignment about werewolves. Thus, these classes generally tended to have more students aware of the fact that the man wasn't dangerous at any other time but the full moon, even if it was hard for them. Harry was beyond relieved to find most of his class, both Slytherins and Gryffindors, attending. Even Blaise was attending, even if he sat at the far back of the classroom together with Nott. Still, the very amount of students fearing Remus's very presence was evidently taking a toll on the man, hurting him as each day passed.

However, Snuffles was there. The dog which had been attacked by the werewolf refused to leave the man’s side. Instead of fearing the beast, the dog loved the man. It seemed that Snuffles made a lot of younger students feel better. He walked around and let them pet him, providing support and assurance without saying a word. The combination of the support from the dog and its closeness to the werewolf seemed to slowly be helping the younger students, making them feel comfortable enough to slowly learn that Remus was no different than from before he was revealed as a werewolf. It didn’t seem to work with the older students, but at the very least, the younger ones were becoming more accepting of him. Whenever one of the young students said something bad about werewolves or their teacher, Snuffles would bark and growl at them, helping to add to the effect.

Snuffles was slowly becoming beloved by many students. He had been washed, the fur trimmed, and he was steadily healing from his wounds. As he was getting better, he started to visit other classes, acting as a therapy dog. However, he preferred Remus above everyone else, as Harry and his friends weren’t quite sure that they wanted to spend time around him. 

Two weeks had passed since Remus’ reveal and the escape of Sirius Black from Hogwarts when the prisoner of Azkaban was sighted in Hungary. _The Daily Prophet_ ran an article which claimed that Black was now a werewolf and had likely fled the country in an attempt to hide from his shame. Hermione was reading the newspaper to the rest of the people around the table, frowning as she read about the werewolf slander which was aimed towards Black but also werewolves in general. 

The group was seated by the Gryffindor table, as it was the table which had space left close to the teachers’ table, and Harry wanted to be close to his dad. It was their first time to move their seats to the Gryffindor table, yet with only two Slytherin students and three Gryffindor students, they felt like they had the right to be by that table. 

Hermione put the newspaper down, about to say something when Snuffles ripped the paper from her hands. The dog began ripping it apart, breaking the object as if that could destroy the harmful lies within it. It didn’t work in the least, and caused quite the commotion, but Snuffles seemed to feel better after destroying the newspaper. 

The commotion drew attention to the two Slytherin students by the Gryffindor table. 

“Hey, Lupin, Malfoy, what are you doing at our table?” Dean Thomas called, glaring at the two Slytherin students. 

“Yeah, you don’t belong here. We don’t want you here.” Seamus Finnigan continued. For what it was worth, neither of them was trying to push the werewolf angle. 

“Why don’t you just leave them alone and eat your breakfast?” Weasley mumbled under his breath, subtle enough that he wasn’t really heard by the boys. Harry found it impressive that he dared speaking back against his bullies. It was very hard on the boy to change friend groups, although he seemed very happy to be free from the people who were hurting him, it was clear that he subsequently feared that they would treat him even worse now that he was no longer their friend. 

The big black dog turned around towards the boys and barked at them, baring its teeth as they unknowingly insulted the dog’s Godson. Harry waved at it, trying to make it quiet down and not cause a ruckus. 

Harry took a deep breath and then spoke. “So you mean to say that we don’t have the right to sit by this table?” He looked towards the group of Gryffindors who were staring at him and Malfoy with displeased looks on their faces, trying to ignore the fact that the dog clearly disproved of their behavior. It was one thing to not be liked by a person, yet an entirely different thing to not be liked by an animal. 

“Yeah.” Thomas looked at his friends, who nodded in unison. 

Harry stared at them, before standing up, half walking, half stomping towards the teachers’ table. Snuffles followed him, some pieces of the newspaper were stuck in his fur, and his tail wagged behind him. Harry could tell that his Dogfather was excited for whatever was about to happen. 

“Professor Dumbledore?” Harry asked, causing the Headmaster to look up from his breakfast talk with the deputy Headmistress. 

“Good morning, Mr. Lupin. What can I help you with?” The man smiled, leaning his head to the side as his intelligent eyes looked upon the boy before him. 

“I was wondering, Headmaster, if me and Malfoy could have permission to sit by the Gryffindor table?” Harry continued, looking up at the man with determined eyes. Next to him, Snuffles wagged his tail still. He spoke loud and clearly, making it no secret to anyone listening in what he was asking of the old wizard.

“Dear student, there are no rules in regards to who sits by what table. Anyone is allowed to sit wherever they want in the Great Hall, except by the teacher’s table of course. No matter what House you belong to, every student table is open to every student.” The Headmaster raised his voice slightly, allowing for more people to hear him. 

“Thank you.” Harry bowed his head before he headed back, and turned towards the Gryffindor students. “There. I believe I belong by whatever table I wish to sit by.” He sat down once more, picking up his fork and continued to eat his breakfast. 

About a month had passed since Sirius Black escaped from Hogwarts, when Harry and Malfoy came to visit Remus and Snuffles. The dog had moved into the man’s office, meaning that Black was spending most of his free time with Remus. Harry was spending a lot of time with his dad when he was able to, especially during the weekends when Remus needed to not be alone. It was a lot easier to visit his dad when Black was said to no longer be in the country. That day, the two boys found Remus with Professor Snape as well, having a cup of tea with the man, the dog half asleep by the werewolf’s feet. 

“Harry, Malfoy, welcome.” Remus smiled at them, it was evident from far away that his hands were shaking that he wasn’t in a great state of mind. The next evening was the first full moon since that evening in February. Luckily enough, it fell on a Sunday, so the man didn’t have to face the students’ stares and whispers that day. The following Monday was going to be hard nonetheless, everyone in the room expected it, most of all the werewolf himself. Professor Snape would granted take over the Monday lessons for the man, and more likely than not continue to remind his students about the fact that their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was harmless and perfectly safe. In fact, the Potions Professor, and Dumbledore, had both been rather relentless in making certain to defend the unfortunate werewolf.

Harry wasn’t surprised in the least that his dad was shaking. “Would you two like a cup of tea?” 

“I’ll handle it, dad, sit back down.” Harry showed his dad to remain in his seat as he walked over to heat the premade tea for himself and his best friend. 

Malfoy began pulling the chairs up to the office desk. Remus had kept extra chairs in the office so that his visitors would have somewhere to sit during their visits. Not that the teacher had a lot of visits, but he never knew how many friends Harry would bring, thus he had taken to always keep some extra chairs in his office. 

Malfoy sat down on the chair, taking a deep breath. “Professors… I have… Something I need help with.” He spoke honestly as his best friend placed a teacup in front of him. Malfoy glanced at Harry for support, the boy nodding at him once more. “I apologise for bringing it up like this, I was planning on speaking to Professor Snape alone but… since you are both here…” He played with his snake cufflinks, staring at the empty cup in front of him. 

“What is it that you need help with?” Remus smiled at the boy, his expression calm but strained. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but the man being stressed about the following night, probably even more stressed seeing the turmoil of events following the last full moon. 

Professor Snape placed his cup and saucer down on the table, looking at the blonde boy as his cup was being filled by Harry. He wasn’t staring, but there was slight concern in his eyes. Even Snuffles raised his head, looking at the blonde mage. Harry realised upon sitting down next to his friend that they were in the company of a mind reader, a werewolf who was sensitive and able to pick up on emotions, and a literal dog, at least for the moment. They were all able to sense that Malfoy was troubled by something, even without the boy speaking up about it. 

The blonde mage took a deep breath. “I am… having troubles with my father.” He began, his voice quivering slightly as he spoke. “About a month ago, I wrote to him… and told him that if I heard anything about him being bigoted towards werewolves, I would disown myself. I know, I know, it was rash, and I suppose I cannot actually disown myself…” He stared down at his teacup, seeming to become smaller in the seat upon which he was located. “He was silent for weeks, but I received a reply yesterday. Lupin asked me to speak to Professor Snape about it, but seeing as I have been confiding in Professor Lupin all year, it feels easier to tell you both.” 

Professor Snape’s voice was almost gentle when he responded to the boy’s words. “What did your father want?” 

Malfoy took a deep breath, glancing over at Harry for support, then continued speaking. “Father wants to speak with me, and I am not certian whether I want to speak with him. If this supposed talk takes place within my own home, then mother is very likely to support him, and I will not be allowed to speak my mind or make my point. Thus… I was wondering if it is possible to have a discussion with my father upon the school grounds, under the supervision of a counselor or otherwise member of the staff to ensure that the communication between us is fair.” He swallowed as he had finished speaking, looking over at the two men with a stiff posture which spoke of how nervous he was. 

Snuffles had somehow managed to make it to Malfoy’s side, suddenly placing its head upon his lap as it looked up at him with the soft, compassionate look of a therapy dog. The boy was distressed enough that he didn’t hesitate to pet the dog, forgetting that the dog in question was his distant cousin. He scratched the dog behind its ear, causing it to close its eyes. 

The two men exchanged glances. 

“What you are asking isn’t precisely conventional.” Professor Snape stated. “Yet as the Head of your House, and a friend of your family, I believe I might be able to be there alongside the two of you if we can make Lucius agree to a private discussion at Hogwarts.” He glanced to the side, specifically down at Snuffles. “The dog, ah, yes, pardon… The therapy dog wants to be with you as you speak to your father, would that be acceptable?” The man continued. 

Malfoy looked down upon the animal, who was wagging its tail happily, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. Malfoy licked his lips, then nodded, his hand squeezing some of the dog’s fur, presumably to keep himself steady. “I’d… like that. Thank you, Professor Snape. Snuffles…” He still struggled to address his relative as the name of the dog. 

Harry smiled at him and handled him the jar of honey for his tea, silently reminding his friend that things would be alright. Malfoy accepted the jar, giving him a weak smile in return. 

Snuffles moved away from the young mage, walked around the desk to Remus. There was no noise, no change in the air and no change of smell, yet Sirius Black rose up next to Remus, giving him a grin. Although his hair and beard weren’t that different from earlier, he looked far more clean and somewhat less of a mess. He had managed to gain weight, although he was still skinny enough to appear unhealthy. The man flashed the werewolf a grin, there was a gleam in his eyes which made the werewolf speak up before the man had a chance. 

“No. Whatever you want, the answer is no.” Remus sighed, picking up his teacup and drank, not looking at his friend. 

“Aw, come on.” Black objected as he wrapped his arms around his old friend’s neck, hugging him close while resting his head on top of Remus’. “I just want to show them the Marauder’s Map. It will be fun, they can learn all kinds of secrets and find fun stuff.” 

“I should have destroyed that map…” Remus mumbled, surrendering to being wagged back and forth by his clingy friend. 

“But you didn’t. I think they should have it.” Black insisted. 

“The map isn’t destroyed?” Harry echoed, looking at his dad. 

Remus looked guilty as he answered, raising his hand to pat the arm of his old friend. Black stopped wagging him, but remained clingy. “I showed it to the Headmaster, who told me that it was a valuable tool in finding Sirius. He asked me to mark every secret path onto another map, and to keep an eye on the Shrieking Shack, in case Sirius would hide out there. He entrusted this to me, since I had already proven reliable in trying to give the map away. That evening, I looked at the map, and I saw Sirius in the Shack. I went to get Severus so as to not engage him alone. I would never have dreamed that I’d find you there, Harry.” He looked at his son with worried yet gentle eyes. “I’m so very relieved that Sirius didn’t hurt you.” 

“Rude.” The animagus mumbled. “Either way, you can hand them the Marauders' Map now, right?” 

“That map is highly illegal, we should never have made it in the first place.” Remus sighed, ignoring his friend’s cuddles. 

“‘We?’” Malfoy echoed, looking at the two men with a raised eyebrow. He looked rather perplexed and annoyed, before his features softened with understanding. “Oh… Padfoot… Dog… Moony… werewolf.” His expression turned bitter as he stared at the two men. “Moony? Were you even trying to hide that he is a werewolf? Please, you could just as well have called him Moon-Moon for how subtle that is!” He objected, allowing himself to fall back onto the chair with a displeased frown on his face. 

Harry began laughing, unable to restrain himself from the act, as his friend made it impossible to keep himself under control after pointing out the obvious flaw in the nicknames. His laughter spread to Black, then to Remus, and finally Malfoy himself. Professor Snape didn’t laugh, but he did hide his expression behind the teacup he was holding. 

When they managed to collect themselves again, Black looked over towards his old friend. “Fine, if you won’t give them the map, can I at least show them the Room of Requirements? They might need it.” 

The father looked at the animagus, studying him for a few seconds before nodding slowly. “Yes. I do agree that that room is harmless to show them.” 

“Yes!” Black celebrated. 

“What is the Room of Requirements?” Harry asked, looking from his dad to his Dogfather with a polite frown on his face. 

“It is what it sounds like.” Black explained. “It’s a room which fills itself with whatever it is you need, as long as you don’t wish for something too extreme. If you need a shower, it will become a shower room. If you need a place to crash away from people, it will produce a nice bed for you to rest in. If you need to hide something, it will become a hiding place.” He counted on his fingers. “But if you are looking for something it cannot provide, like a Dragon’s Heart or powdered mandrake… Generally consumable items, it can’t provide it. Water is fine, but not something like pumpkin juice or Butterbeer.” 

Harry and Malfoy exchanged looks. 

“That… might be good to know, yes.” Harry clumsily agreed to wanting to know the location of the room. 

“It would be appreciated. I’m sure that we will have use for it in the future,” Malfoy agreed.

Black transformed back into Snuffles, running over to the door and barked for them to follow, and had to be informed that they hadn’t finished his tea and thus wouldn’t leave yet. The dog returned to Remus’ side, whimpering and whining until the two boys finished their tea and allowed it to show them the secret room. It was clearly very excited over the prospect of sharing some Marauder knowledge. 

Planning the exchange with Lucius Malfoy was hard on his son, but the two of them managed to arrange a meeting. Harry would have wanted to be with his friend, but there was simply no way where a talk between father and son allowed for the son’s best friend to be present and listening. Thus, Harry had to accept that the only thing he could do for Malfoy at that moment was to wait for him outside, and console him in whatever way he needed when he exited from the talk. 

The door shut behind Draco Malfoy, leaving him in a room with his father, Professor Snape and Snuffles. He felt tense, the air around him felt cold and almost violent, like it would bite him had it had the ability to. It was with a heavy heart and a clenched jaw that he found himself seated in front of his father, the Professor to his right and the dog seated on the floor, next to him. The room they were in was a small study room, one which had been marked as ‘busy’ to avoid other students from accidentally stumbling into their meeting. 

His father appeared much like he always did, collected, elegant, distant yet still impossibly aware and present. His son had always admired that about the man, but when he was facing him as an opponent, it was impossibly frightening. The boy licked his lips, kept his head high, and his posture collected. 

“Draco.” Malfoy senior began, yet he stopped himself, then spoke again. “Son. You have called me here because you wish to speak with me, no doubt with the intention of reaching a conclusion to our current disagreement. Although your threat about disowning yourself is a harmless threat at your age, I do understand that you truly find yourself passionate about our disagreement, which is why I have elected to listen to you. No matter the family, if a child threatens to disown themselves, the situation should be treated with care. I blame myself for the way you have strayed, and I…” He hesitated, glancing shortly at the other man in the room before continuing. “If my actions are driving you to this, it is my duty as parent to listen to your complaints. Your mother has been insistent that I speak with you not as my child, but as an equal. I intend to listen to her advice, and reach an agreement with you.” He lightly tapped his cane as he spoke, his gloved finger lightly hitting against the decorated snake’s head which crowned the top of his cane. 

The situation was far different from how it had been when the two Malfoys spoke to one another during the holidays. The son could only imagine what kind of discussions his mother must have had with the man to make him appear so very humble and willing to listen to his child. It must have taken months to change his mind, to make him understand that his son was not going to be swayed by demands and illogical arguments, but that the only paths left to Lucius Malfoy were either redemption or rejection. The heir of the Malfoy family could only imagine his family’s reaction to finding out that Remus Lupin was, and has always been, a werewolf. 

“Thank you for coming here, father.” The young Malfoy spoke, secretly grabbing onto Snuffles under the table, where his father couldn’t see his hand. “I appreciate that you seek to reach an agreement with me, but I am sad to say that there is only one answer I am prepared to offer you. If you wish me to return back home and find pride in my name once more, I will need you to change. I am not asking you to change the past, neither am I asking that you personally apologise to the people who have been negatively affected by your actions. All I ask is that you become better in the future. I know that is harsh, yet you have raised me to be harsh, and thus, I will state with the authority placed in me by you: if you want me to forgive you, you have to earn my respect once more.” Malfoy squeezed the dog’s fur so hard that his knuckles became white. Snuffles was doing its best to not whine in pain, simply allowing itself to be the support which the boy needed. 

Lucius Malfoy scoffed, looking towards Professor Snape with a look of disbelief in his eyes. He seemed to be looking to another adult to confirm that he had heard his son’s words correctly. Said son felt how his heartbeat sped up in his chest, making it almost impossible for him to hear over the loud, horrible sound of his own heartbeats. 

“Draco.” His father was already using a degrading voice, one which he was clearly using in an attempt to show that his son was being childish. “That is a very diffuse demand.” He shook his head, almost clicking his tongue in disapproval. “How am I to ‘do better’ as you put it? This discussion has no conclusion unless you can provide a clear goal for me to fulfill.” 

“Father, you are not a child. You know what your faults are, you know what it is I am upset about. However, as you have requested of me, I will clarify what it is you need to do to earn my respect back. I want you to treat the marginalised groups which you have previously discriminated against with respect. I no longer wish to hear you speak badly of them, discriminate against them, or claim that they are less because they are not your personal ideal of what a mage should be.” The son explained, once again using the words which his father had taught him, to counter the political wall which his father’s words had formed. 

This time the man scoffed even louder, turning back to look at the Professor to confirm that the words he had heard were real. “You’d have me befriend and play nice with Mudbloods and werewolves? Draco, you mu-” 

Before he could finish his sentence, the dog next to Malfoy began to bark at the father. None in that room had heard the dog bark before, with the exception of the younger Malfoy, yet were all surprised by the deep, dark noise which left its jaws. Lucius Malfoy all but jumped out of his seat, as he had not been prepared for the dog to bark at him. 

“What is that beast doing here? Severus, what is the meaning of this?” The politician turned towards the Potions Master, looking both appalled and offended. 

“I do believe, Lucius, that the beast finds your current behavior to be exactly what your son wants you to change for the sake of earning his fondness and respect back.” The Professor responded calmly, seemingly unbothered by the situation playing out before his eyes. 

The man looked back towards his son, who couldn’t help but avoid his eyes. The man drew a short, shallow breath, then tried to speak calmly once more. “...Son, these views are based on fact and logic, take Mudbloods for exam-” 

Once again, the dog started to bark. Once again, it caused the man to jump, and then stare at the animal. Lucius Malfoy looked to the Potion Master, but was met with silent indifference. Snuffles stopped barking, yet he still appeared more than ready to begin anew, should the man’s bigotry poison his words once more. 

“I am not asking you to change your views, father.” The young Malfoy found the courage to continue speaking, carefully voicing his thoughts. “However uncomfortable they make me, I do not have the power to change them. I want you to treat my friends and the people I choose to surround myself with, with respect. Not because of their blood, but because of their worth to me. I will not stand to hear you speak ill of Professor Lupin because he is a werewolf, I will not forgive your slandering of Granger because of her blood status, and I will not accept the way you are treating Lupin for what was done to him as a child.” The son felt himself grow more confident as he spoke, his head raised high and his heart filled with adoration for the people whom he had mentioned. 

“I want these people to be treated with basic human decency from you, and I do not want to hear a breath of prejudice or blame towards them. People cannot change over a night, I am not asking for that, I am asking you to act with the dignity and respect which you have claimed to be your responsibility as a Pureblood to uphold. Not only towards those of fellow Pureblood status, but towards everyone. Am I making myself clear, father?” The son finished, staring the man straight into his eyes, all but daring him to object to his demand. 

Lucius Malfoy stared at his son, gaping in a way which was not dignified in the least. Yet again, he sought answers in Professor Snape, who answered in a calm, dry voice. 

“I believe your son’s demands to be rather clear in this situation, Lucius. I do not believe that there is anything you can say which would change his mind. Thus, it might be for the better that you do strive to listen to his demands, lest you lose your son.” The Potions Master’s answer was not as much bias as it was confirming what everyone in the room realised was what the young Malfoy demanded. 

Slowly, the father turned his head back, turned towards his child. He stared, as if his shocked expression could somehow make the boy change his mind. However selfish and self motivated Lucius Malfoy might be, he truly did love his family. He loved his wife, and he loved his son. It hurt him greatly to fight with his child, but it also hurt him deeply to find that his own child was rejecting all his teachings and his proclaimed wisdom in favor of the absolute opposite. 

A life time. A lifetime of ideals, ideas. Of passionate belief, of unwavering faith. He had taught his son all that he held close to his heart, and all that which he found important. He had made certain to teach the boy his place in the world, a place which Lucius Malfoy believed to be his by right of birth. His beliefs and principles were so very fundamental to his personality, to his idea of self, and his concept of his identity, that the man couldn’t envision himself without them.

Yet, Lucius Malfoy had to make a choice. By clinging to his ideals, beliefs and principles he would lose his son. He had to choose between his child and that which he had held true for a lifetime. 

He chose his son. 

How could he choose anything else above his son? Whatever worth did his principles have if they were hurting his son? What worth did he have as a parent if he rejected his son for thinking differently? He knew the answer to all those questions. Unlike his principles, his son was there, present, and real. 

Lucius Malfoy chose his son. 

“I… understand.” Before that moment, the child had never seen his father shaken. He wasn’t a little shaken or out of alignment, he was truly unnerved. “No, I… I do see.” He gripped his cane tighter, holding on to the head of the snake. “Draco… I have never been too good at expressing affection. It is a… fault of mine.” He glanced towards the Professor, not because he was relating to him, but because the man was present and he was trying to express his honest emotions to his child, which was more than a little difficult in the presence of another adult, even when said adult was a friend of his family. 

Malfoy senior tried once more, licking his lips before he began to speak again. “I understand that your friends mean a lot to you. That Harry Potter-”

“Lupin.” His son corrected him. 

“...Lupin. I understand that your friend means quite a lot to you. I understand that he has changed you, and I cannot claim to particularly like the change. However, I have completed my duty as your parent in trying to correct your path. I have done what I can to help you. You are rejecting my help, and you have rejected… me. Nonetheless, I am your father. I do… I do love you. I believe that you are making a mistake, but this isn’t about me. This is… your choice. If all I can do as your father is allow you to make this choice for yourself, then… I shall allow it. Your demands have been heard, I will… mend my ways to suit what you ask of me. I… I’ll… change.” He stumbled through the last sentence, swallowing hard after he had voiced his promise. 

The heir of the Malfoy family stared at his father, he couldn’t believe that the man had accepted his demands. The man had to change a lot of things, and he had to prove that he had changed for his son to even be comfortable around him. However, he was willing to change, and that was more than the child had dared hoping. 

“You… will?” The boy quietly asked. 

“It won’t be easy for me to do what you ask of me. I will make mistakes, I will have… fallbacks. However, I will try. My honest motive is to…” Once again, it was hard for the man to speak honestly with another adult in the room. His hesitation made it rather evident that he did not know that the Professor could read his mind. “To… Regain the trust which I know you have lost in me.” 

“Father…” The boy’s voice trembled. He wanted to feel distant towards the man, yet the promise of change was so relieving that he couldn’t help but feel the need to hug the man. 

The Potions Master stood up, walking towards the door. He gestured towards the dog, silently calling for it to follow him. Snuffles pushed its head against the boy’s leg, then followed the Professor. 

The father and son were left alone. Lucius Malfoy stood up, carefully moved around the table and offered an embrace to his child. The boy looked up at his dad, he could feel that his eyes were becoming wet. By the time he embraced his dad and was embraced in return, Draco Malfoy was crying. 

Harry sat up straighter as the door opened. He, Hermione, Neville and Weasley were sitting further away from the room where the father and son were speaking, trying not to be in the way of their talk, yet also not wanting to be too far away from their friend in case he needed them. From the room exited Professor Snape and Snuffles, but no Malfoy. 

Snuffles spotted them and hurried over to them, stopping in front of Harry with a wagging tail. The fact that the tail was wagging made Harry think that the talk might have actually ended better than any of them had dared hoping. 

Professor Snape walked over to the group as well, nodding at them in a greeting. “I will leave the dog in your hands.” He turned around again, sweeping back to the door to the room, silently waiting for the two people to finish speaking while also being far away so that he couldn’t hear the children speaking. 

Weasley looked at the dog, who seemed to be half hiding behind Harry, not wanting to look at him. 

“Hey, uhm…” Weasley stuttered out. “Cuddlemuffin.” 

The dog stared at him, as did everyone else who was gathered there. Then, sighing heavily, the dog laid down and rolled over, presenting his stomach for rubs. Everyone stared at him, then back to Weasley, who seemed surprised and amused. 

“It really worked.” He laughed to himself. 

“Why are you telling my Dogfather to roll over?” Harry asked after looking around to confirm that they were alone. Snuffles wagged its tail at being called Dogfather. It seemed to like the nickname. 

“Well,” Weasley leaned back on the bench he was sitting on, his crutches resting against the wall next to him. He didn’t need the wheelchair anymore, yet he was still in pain, and had trouble walking. “The students are joking about how he will roll over when you call him Cuddlemuffin. I don’t know why, I just thought I should try and see for myself. If it was true.” He shrugged. 

“Did you call him Dogfather…?” Neville asked, looking at Harry. He didn’t dare say ‘instead of Godfather’ but trusted that the boy realised what he meant. 

The Slytherin student shrugged, trying not to smile too widely. “He likes it. Who told you that he responds to Cuddlemuffin?” He glanced at Snuffles, who turned its nose towards the Potions Master, staring at him. Harry frowned at at the dog. “You are claiming that your new nickname is Professor Snape’s fault?” 

Said dog nodded, forgetting to not act human. 

The group looked over at the man, who was calmly waiting by the door. 

Harry looked around, raising his voice to speak to their Potions Professor. “Professor, sir?” The man turned towards him. “Have you given this dog a nickname?” 

“Lupin, please. I have never in my life uttered the word ‘Cuddlemuffin.’” The man responded. His lips twitched slightly in what could either be an almost smile or an allergic reaction. It may have taken years, yet Professor Snape had gotten his revenge for the nickname Snivellus.

Harry grinned back at him as the door to the study room opened, father and son Malfoy leaving said room. Mr. Malfoy followed the Professor while the blonde boy came over to his friends. He looked put together, yet Harry could tell that his best friend had been crying. He didn’t point it out though, Malfoy didn’t like to appear any less than his best. 

“How did it go…?” Hermione asked carefully, twisting her hair between her fingers. She was clearly nervous. 

“Father has, surprisingly, agreed to my demands. He will be trying very hard to earn my trust back. I’m… shocked, but happy.” The blonde mage smiled at them, but especially at Hermione. 

“Does… your mother know that I’m… That my blood is…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. 

Malfoy shook his head. “No, but when she does, I’m sure that she won’t be able to raise a fuss about it. Neither will she, or my father, be able to speak bad of Professor Lupin.” He assured them. 

“That’s great.” Neville smiled at him. “That’s… I thought you father was one of those people who never allowed their opinion to change based on, well… anything.” 

“So did I.” Malfoy agreed as he corrected his cufflinks. “Why are we standing around here?” He looked between his friends, smiling at them, seemingly both overwhelmed and endlessly relieved. 

Weasley glanced at the dog, hesitated, and then leaned in to speak to said dog. “Hey? I’ve… heard that you like pranks? There is this teacher, Divination teacher, who has sort of been trying to scare me about this big, black dog all year… Do you think we could… Prank her together?” 

The dog grinned at him, before letting out a deep bark, its tail wagging. It was definitely up for a prank.


	28. Chapter 27 - In which Harry Lupin does not attend the final Quidditch game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh Harry! Everything makes sense now!” She exclaimed, her face flushed and happy. “The werewolf who Professor Snape knew… The reason he is so passionate about werewolves… Why he made the Lycanthropy potion in the first place…!” She breathed, trying to control herself through her excitement. “It was all your dad. It was all for Professor Lupin!” 

The final Quidditch game of the season was approaching, and Harry was not attending. 

Instead, he found himself standing before the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, alongside his Dogfather, who was currently standing next to him in his human form. The situation stemmed from Black having realised that Harry was in fact not a Gryffindor student, but belonged to the Slytherin House. The man might have made great progress with his mental state, yet he was not prepared to accept that his Godson didn’t belong to the same House as his fathers and mother. 

Being around people again, and being a support for students and teenagers had rapidly improved the man’s broken mind. Just like Harry and Remus, it seemed easier for the man to focus on something other than himself for the sake of improvement. With the exams coming up, Snuffles proved to be needed by many. Simply walking through the corridors with the animal yielded many halts and pets from students, which in turn helped Harry in that people didn’t really care about him as long as the therapy dog was around. Added to that was Snuffles newfound technique of barking at people who uttered bigoted comments about werewolves or another marginalised group. If nothing else, his barks served to overpower the words, which also helped keep Harry sane. 

After pranking Trelawney together, Weasley no longer found the animagus as frightening as he once had. They got along well enough, even able to have short conversations about matters without them being too strained. It also seemed that Black had promised to be the support dog for the boy’s boggart exam, and private practice sessions with Remus, which seemed to help Weasley immensely. Weasley was also the first child Black truly managed to recognise properly, no longer accidentally calling him Lily, much to the child's appreciation as he was very weirded out to be referred to what would be both Harry's mother, and sort of Harry's wife at the same time.

Neville didn’t have an especially interesting relationship to Black. They got along well enough, and the man was somewhat proficient in casting spells using his internal magic. Neville had gotten a real teacher in Professor Dumbledore, who was tutorining him privately when he had the time. However, the old man was very busy, and Neville welcomed the help from the former prisoner when the Headmaster was busy. During one of their training sessions, the man got to know that Neville feared Professor Snape, thus, he made it his mission to go and speak to the man on Neville’s behalf. In the end, Remus was the one to address the problem to the Potions Master, who was somewhat surprised to learn that he was that frightening in the eyes of the young boy. Of course, the man sensed Neville's nerves and fear in his classroom, but he had not quite understood how severe it was. Professor Snape confessed to never having had anything against the boy, instead highlighting how his perceived criticism was him trying to improve the boy’s abilities by offering constructive feedback. It seemed that Professor Snape had seen a lot of potential in Neville due to his care and competence in his handling of plants and working with Herbology, as Herbology and potions brewing generally went hand in hand, and had been rather frustrated in finding the boy too nervous to perform well in his classroom. The discussion led to the Potions teacher assuring Neville that he would find other means with which to phrase himself for the sake of not frightening the boy. That whole situation finally made it click for Black that Neville was, in fact, not a younger Professor Snape.

The animagus helped Hermione get more used to dogs, leading to her being less scared of them. Black was also very honest in how impressed he was with her. It was clear from the way the man was speaking that he wasn’t used to being around Muggleborn people, and he found it most impressive that she had managed to make herself such a formidable witch at such a young age when she had no knowledge of the magical world just four years ago. His constant praise and approval of her abilities served to make her more comfortable in her own abilities and what she had accomplished so far. 

Black continued to mistake her for a younger Remus for a period of time. It was clear that it was very hard for her to hear that she reminded of a boy, to which Remus assured her that she did not, and that he had looked nothing like her back in his own childhood. However, the girl was still very uncomfortable with the idea of the two of them being similar in appearance, yet she tried to not see this as her fault, instead seeing it as the fault of the mentally unstable man, which it was. 

Malfoy and Black proved to have a lot in common, making it rather easy for them to get along with one another. They talked about Quidditch and about playing the game. Black hadn’t been a Seeker, but he was more than familiar with the sport, and interested enough to want to be informed about everything he had missed in regards to the games which Malfoy had seen but he hadn’t. They could talk for hours, often joined by Weasley and Neville, who also enjoyed the sport enough to find the discussion pleasant. When they got lost in speaking about Quidditch, Harry, Hermione and Remus would speak to one another, rather than trying to follow a conversation which was already lost to them. 

The two were also similar in regards to their family. While Black was clearly very different from Malfoy, and had trouble remaining calm when discussing why he left his home, it seemed to do them both good to have someone to speak with who understood their situation. However caring and understanding Harry and his friends were, none of them truly understood what Malfoy was going through, not the way Black did.

It proved relatively hard for Black to stop mistaking Malfoy for his mother. Black claimed that Malfoy looked practically identical to what his mother had looked like at the age of thirteen, thus making the process even harder. Unlike the others, Malfoy didn't particularly mind to be called Nessie by mistake.

Instead of giving Malfoy advice or trying to find solutions to his problems, without ever trying to make the boy choose the same path as him, Black simply listened to him. He allowed the boy to speak about his family, their family, allowing him to express his frustration towards their beliefs. It was clear that the understanding from another person who shared his experience was very relieving to Malfoy. Black did state that if the boy ever needed someplace to stay, no matter the situation, he could always find a room at Black’s house, after he had managed to sort things out with where he would live, of course. 

That left Harry as the one who Black struggled the most to get along with. Black was constantly stumbling over his name, calling Harry everything from James to Potter, from Harry and then back to James, more often than not forgetting that he was supposed to call him Lupin. Once, he called him Jerry, which was more than a little awkward for everyone involved. 

In an attempt to bond with him, Black tried to speak Quidditch with Harry. Much to the man’s shock, he was informed yet again that Harry didn’t play, and that his broom had been given away to the Captain of the Slytherin team. After Black had calmed from the shock of his Godson not enjoying what had been James’ passion in life, he managed to inquire about why the Slytherin Captain had been given the broom, instead of a Gryffindor player. Almost four months had passed since Remus’ transformation and the supposed escape of Sirius Black when the animagus learned that his Godson was a Slytherin student. He really should have noticed sooner, but somehow, he just hadn’t connected the green tie with Harry being a Slytherin. The man had more likely than not been in denial for most of those months.

This had led to a lot of objections from Black, which finally led Harry to tell him that not only was he a Slytherin student, but he was the Heir of Slytherin. Black refused to believe this claim even more, thus leaving Harry no choice but to show him the Chamber of Secrets, after some extensive discussions about basilisk safety. 

Harry looked up at the big doors to the Chamber of Secrets, having made certain to be very careful in coming there. The true Heir of Slytherin and his Dogfather were granted access by the boy’s words. Black didn’t seem to enjoy that the child of his best friend spoke Parseltongue, but didn’t complain about it. The Chamber itself seemed empty, yet Harry did not allow either of them to open their eyes until they knew where Secrets the basilisk was. 

“Secrets?” Harry called, holding on to his Dogfather to keep him from doing something stupid, but also to show the snake that he was not a target to be attacked or threatened by. “It’s Harry, I’d like to speak with you.” His voice echoed in the Chamber, travelling further than his voice could reach as it shifted to vibrations instead. 

It didn’t take too long before the sound of something heavy reached their ears. Black’s grip around Harry’s hand tightened, his breathing speeding up as he fought back the fear of being approached by something giant which he couldn’t see or stop. 

_“Master.”_ Secrets greeted the boy. _“Have not… seen Master for long. How happy. Did you bring… goat?”_

“Hello, it’s good to speak with you again.” Harry smiled at her, for he now knew that the snake was the Queen of Serpents, not the King he had previously presumed her to be. Hagrid had been very excited to point out the physical differences between them, asking Harry to confirm if the snake had a red feather on its head or not. With Harry’s confirmation, they were able to conclude that the basilisk was indeed a female one. “I have not brought any goats, but I did bring my Dogfather. He’s sort of my uncle. A little bit. He wanted to meet you.”

 _“Smells sick…”_ The snake concluded. _“Would not… eat.”_

“Thank you. He doesn’t want to be eaten. He was wondering if he could touch you?” Harry continued. 

_“...Touch… yes. Scratch… head.”_ She agreed, lowering herself down. 

Harry turned towards his Dogfather, pulling at his hand. “She has lowered down for you to pet her. Look towards the shadow, then work your way up from her neck. You don’t want to in any way touch or come close to her venom.” 

“Are you talking to me now?” Black asked, clearly confused. “Cause you are still hissing. It’s… freaky.” 

Harry tried once more to speak English, managed to figure his way back to the language, then repeated himself. After some careful maneuvering, Black found himself stroking over the giant snake’s head, attentively scratching it with his eyes closed. Harry helped pet her as well, much to her delight. It seemed that even basilisks liked to be pampered. 

After having petted her, Harry asked for the snake to go hide in her secret compartment of the Chamber, behind the statue of Slytherin, so that they may explore the Chambers themselves. She agreed, slithering away to give the man and the boy all the space they needed to explore. 

“Wow…” Black looked around in the chambers, asking his Godson to lift his wand higher as he studied the statue of Salazar Slytherin, before walking around to inspect the rest of the chambers. 

To Harry’s discomfort, the magic circle on the ground was still there, providing a highly uncomfortable reminder that Ron Weasley was almost killed within that circle. He tried to stay back, allowing the man to explore while he kept from thinking in too great detail about the events which had unfolded in the Chamber almost a year ago. 

Black greatly enjoyed exploring the forbidden chamber, Harry could almost see his tail wag behind him, despite the fact that the man was not a dog at that moment. Yet the boy was relieved to turn his back on it, and return back to the sunny outside world. Black didn’t find anything of particular interest, yet he did bring some basilisk skin back, seemingly intending on giving it to the Potions Master. Black had attempted to behave around Professor Snape, for the longest time seeming to hope that being decent would somehow spare him from having to apologise.

“Say?” Black stopped Harry before he could hover the two of them back up the pipe. “Do I have the right to call you Harry yet?” 

“Have you apologised to Professor Snape?” The boy returned the question with a question. 

Judging by Black’s groan, he hadn’t. 

“Well, you know my demands.” Harry smiled at him, leaning his head to the side. “Now please turn back into a dog so that I can get us out of here.” 

Black obeyed, seemingly happy to go back to his other shape. 

  
  


The group of friends gathered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor’s office after the game. Harry, Malfoy, Neville, Hermione and Weasley were all there, alongside the three adults Remus, Professor Snape, and of course Black. Black was so excited that he couldn’t remain a dog, he had to transform into a human for the sake of being involved with the discussion. 

For the first time since Black attended Hogwarts, the Gryffindor Quidditch team had won the cup. The game had been incredibly close, but the Snitch had been captured by the Gryffindor Seeker Ginny Weasley, who managed to get ahead of Malfoy by employing a very reckless dive, almost crashing her broom in her mad stunt for victory. It was clear by simply looking at Malfoy that he was slightly bitter about the loss, yet he became far less bitter after Harry praised him for not being reckless. 

According to the people gathered, Wood had been so overjoyed with happiness that he had nearly crashed in his excitement to get to Seeker Weasley and hug her to celebrate their victory. The stadium had been surprised when Flint had pulled the other Captain from his players, dipped him, and then kissed him in front of almost the entire school. In fact, the kiss was more talked about than Gryffindor’s victory. Hermione and Malfoy were both excited to share that the kiss had earned an even larger applause and cheering than the end of the game. 

The group continued to tell Black all about the game in great detail, until their conversation started to repeat itself, as they had exhausted all there was to say about the game. At that point, Remus carefully asked for the attention of the gathered, making them all look at him. 

The past months had not been kind to Remus. Harry knew that his transformations had been worse than normal as well, and that he was struggling to both sleep and relax. He looked more tired than his son had ever seen him before, despite the man trying hard to remain positive and happy around his child. It was not hard to see that the man was not feeling very well, and that his health seemed to be steadily declining. 

“I have… an announcement.” Remus slowly spoke up, spinning an empty teacup in his hands as he tried to voice what was on his mind. “I have… decided that I will not return to Hogwarts as a teacher after the summer.”

His words were met by objection. The people gathered knew better than to try and force him, but the words felt so sudden that few could hold their tongues back from speaking their mind. 

Harry felt a heavy lump form in his chest, making it harder to breathe. He licked his lips, then closed his eyes, allowing his body to feel before he gathered himself, looking up at his dad once more. Part of him wanted to beg Remus to stay at Hogwarts, to become an inspiration for werewolves all over the world in showing that a person infected with Lycanthropy could hold a steady job among people, where he was completely safe to be around. However, not everyone could be an inspiration for others, not everyone could stand up to the world as a symbol at the cost of their own lives and safety. Remus couldn’t. He shouldn’t have to. He was sacrificing his physical and mental health every day just by going to work. People were judging him harshly for every single mistake he made, even those which nobody would have noticed just a few months prior. His own students, the children which he was supposed to tutor and assist, feared him and treated him like a monster. That was to not even mention the threats and words against him from parents and adults. Even some of the staff members had a hard time being around him, despite attempting to act like they didn’t. The man wasn’t fine, and to ask him to continue to break himself apart for the sake of others wasn’t fair. 

For anyone else in the room, it would have been so easy to disregard his suffering as necessary to make a difference. As they were not the ones suffering from the discrimination and hardships, it would have been an easy mistake to make to forget just how much pain and suffering a person struggling against discrimination and hatred had to live with. However, as much as everyone present desired a world where werewolves could be treated fairly and in humane manners, it couldn’t come about by sacrificing the safety and health of Remus, his dad wasn’t solely responsible for making that change.

“I think that is for the best, dad.” Harry admitted, smiling softly at the man. He hoped that he didn’t look sad, he felt sad, but the man didn’t need the added pressure of his sadness at that moment. “What you are experiencing right now is too much for anyone to bear. You shouldn’t stay here if it is hurting you.” 

Remus swallowed, looking at his son with wet eyes. The fact that Harry wasn’t in any way upset or too emotional seemed to help the man a lot. “Thank you…” He swallowed. “I went to speak with the Headmaster, to hand in my resignation, and the Professor was kind enough to offer me another work opportunity. During the summer, and throughout the following year, I will be helping Hagrid learn how to teach. Essentially, I will be teaching him for at least another year, with the Headmaster offering me a very generous payment for my work.” He smiled a little awkwardly, seeming somewhat embarrassed as he spoke. It was hard to know what he was embarrassed about, yet Harry assumed it to be many things at once, taking the form of embarrassment. 

“You will be dearly missed, Professor Lupin.” Neville assured the man, causing the rest of the children to agree with him. “Yet your health is really important. If I may… I think you made the right choice in taking care of yourself and your mind.” 

The werewolf smiled at him, nodding with a look of gratitude written all over his face. The group agreed with Neville, clearly making the man feel far more comfortable than he had before he told them about his choice. 

Malfoy turned towards Black, who had been silent for a while. “What does that make of you?” He most likely didn’t intend for the question to seem as demanding as it was, yet it came out rather forcefully. 

Black glanced towards him, then grinned. Harry was surprised to realise that he no longer minded the man’s grin, perhaps the expression was no longer insane, or the boy had simply gotten used to it. Nonetheless, Black’s grin was not as unsettling as it had been when he first met the prisoner. “I’m coming with Rem and Haaaa-lplin. Lupin Junior.” Black corrected himself. “It is surprisingly easy to get your hands on your own Gringotts gold, they really don’t care what you’ve done, they will simply hand over your money if you have the means to prove that the gold is yours. I will be able to pay for my stay and more. As for Snuffles, if Hogwarts really wants therapy dogs, they can find them in shelters, and raise them to be there for the students, rather than relying on me. I’ve already told Dumbledore that, and he said that he would look into it, especially since Snuffles was such a success.” 

Malfoy nodded, looking down at his cufflinks as he thought about something. 

Black patted him on the back. “You can write to me at any time, I’ll be living with the Lupins.” 

Harry had to glance at his dad to confirm that Black had actually checked with his dad before deciding to move in with them. The son of the werewolf wasn’t too comfortable with Black, but he liked him all the more as a dog. It wasn’t likely that Black would stay with them forever, and Harry found himself relieved to learn that his dad wouldn’t be alone when Harry returned to school for his fourth year at Hogwarts. 

Professor Snape hadn’t said anything, he had simply sat next to the werewolf and listened as everyone else spoke. Harry had almost forgotten that he was there until he saw him move. When Remus had managed to say what he wanted to say, the Potions Master moved his hand towards the other Professor, carefully placing his hand upon his leg in a gesture to comfort the man which didn’t seem to stem from friendship, but from something more. He didn’t say anything, yet Remus put his own hand on top of the man's squeezed it in return, giving him a grateful look, a warm, longing look. 

Hermione seemed to notice, but she didn’t say anything until after the children had left the room and were returning to their own common rooms. When they had made it a little away from Remus’ office, followed by the large, black dog, she turned to Harry with an excited look on her face. 

“Oh Harry! Everything makes sense now!” She exclaimed, her face flushed and happy. “The werewolf who Professor Snape knew… The reason he is so passionate about werewolves… Why he made the Lycanthropy potion in the first place…!” She breathed, trying to control herself through her excitement. “It was all your dad. It was all for Professor Lupin!” 

Harry smiled at her, she had clearly realised that his dad and their Potions Professor liked one another. All Black's talk about the past and mistaking them for other people had lead to Harry's friends knowing a lot more about what happened back then, as well. It probably helped Hermione figure out that the werewolf in the same year as Professor Snape was the one. Harry nodded. “Yes, it was all for my dad. They were together for some time back then.” 

She smiled even wider. “He loved him to the point of invention… Oh, that is so very romantic.” She looked down to the floor, her cheeks flushed as she played with her hair. 

“What does that mean?” Neville asked her, frowning slightly. “Is it a Muggle proverb?” 

“Oh no!” She shook her head, sending her locks flying around her face. “It’s just… There was this man, whose wife was a nurse. Every day, she would return home with dry hands, cut, blistered and dirty from work. Thus, he invented rubber gloves, to make his wife’s life easier. He made a statement which went something like ‘when I saw her, I knew, I loved her to the point of invention.’ I always found that so very romantic.” She sighed, staring off into a world which only she could see with a soft expression on her face. 

Malfoy’s expression equalled hers, as did Weasley’s. Neville and Harry glanced at one another before smiling. Their friends were clearly romantics, not that there was anything wrong with that. Still, it was a little funny to see them all dream themselves away like that. 

Nonetheless, Hermione’s words were true. The Potions Master had loved Harry’s dad to the point of invention. Harry had a feeling that Hagrid wouldn’t be the only one to visit him and his dad that summer. 

The end of the year came about quicker than Harry would have thought. The exams were approaching, everything became about studying and then, it was all over. Harry found himself sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by his friends, at the final night of his third year at Hogwarts. They were all chatting as Snuffles squeezed himself between Weasley and Hermione, wanting to join in on the festivities by sitting by the table. The group was seated as close to the teacher’s table as they had managed to get, for the purpose of being as close to Remus as they could from the Slytherin table. 

The hall was in a festive mood, people were chatting and speaking, waiting for the final speech by their Headmaster which would tell them which House won the House Cup, as well as some announcement about something or another. 

Soon enough, the old wizard stood up, calling for silence by merit of his presence alone. “Good evening all!” He cheerily greeted them. “Before I tell you of the House Cup winner, I have some exciting announcements for you. Thankfully, Sirius Black has been confirmed to have left the country, thus, the Ministry of Magic is recalling all Dementors from Hogwarts school grounds, as well as all Aurors. When you come back next year, you will no longer have to worry about the presence of those creatures, and will be allowed the peace of mind that Black isn’t likely to return to Britain anytime soon.” 

The room applauded, seemingly enjoying the idea of no longer having to live in close proximity to Dementors. Snuffles joined in on the celebration by howling, startling both Hermione and Weasley who were seated next to the dog. 

“Next,” the old wizard continued. “I have the great honor to announce that Hogwarts will become host to the revived Trimagus Tournament, by the start of your next year, that is to say, this fall.” 

A murmur went through the room, as some people questioned what the tournament was while others seemed excited. Some few people appeared to be nervous about the idea of it. 

The Headmaster called for silence. “For those of you who do not know, do not fret. The Trimagus Tournament was first established roughly three hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of magic: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools have historically taken turns to host the tournament once every five years. The tournament was created to foster relationships between the schools and promote friendship, as well as exchange of information between the students and teachers from different nations. The tournament was cancelled after a student tragically lost their life during one of the tasks, roughly fifty years ago.”

“The Ministry of Magic has been eager to recreate the tournament, and has now managed to do it. That means that Hogwarts will become hosts to three large events next school year, alongside hosting visitors from other nations. The event is sponsored by the Ministry, and there will continuously be many people coming and going during the weekends. As I am sure you understand, this will come to provide a distraction in your study year, which could potentially become problematic for your studies. I will not pretend that this is not a fact. Nonetheless, all of this will be properly discussed by the beginning of next year. For those students who find themselves interested in competing for Hogwarts, I remind you now that no participants below the age of sixteen will be permitted to compete. Even then, you will need permission from your parents if you are below eighteen, and you will likely have to retake a year here at Hogwarts, as your year will mostly consist of the tournament. Thus, I wanted to speak to you all about the event today, so that you may have the entirety of the summer to think about whether you wish to participate or not, as well as practice during that summer, should you want to compete. You are likely to be able to read a lot about the Trimagus Tournament in the newspaper throughout the summer.” 

“However, now that I have introduced next year’s exciting events, allow me to move on to the currently relevant ones.” The man allowed the students to speak to one another for a bit before he raised his voice one more. “First, congratulations to the Gryffindor Quidditch team, for bringing the Quidditch cup to their House.” The room filled with applause. Harry could see Wood beam over by the Gryffindor table. He noticed that the teenager’s boyfriend sat right next to him when Flint put an arm around the other Captain, grinning at him. It seemed that after Harry had asked for permission to sit by another table, some students had begun sitting with whoever they wanted, rather than keeping to their House table out of loyalty. Flint was one of them, choosing his boyfriend over his House. 

“And now… for the winners of this year's House Cup, I am happy to congratulate the Hufflepuff House for their victory.” The man clapped his hands, causing all decorations to become yellow and black. 

A silence lowered itself over the Great Hall, nothing seemed to even move. Over by the teachers’ table, Remus Lupin smiled, leaning his head to the side. It seemed that when the point system was more even, Hufflepuff had no problems keeping up with the other Houses. Judging by their victory, they were even better than the other Houses when it came to gathering points. 

The Great Hall exploded with cheers, as if time had suddenly been started once more, and everyone realised at once that the House which was often considered less than all the others had won the House Cup for the first time in years. The cheering from the Hufflepuff table was quickly accompanied by the Gryffindors, who couldn’t help but want to join them in their celebration. Harry laughed, and began applauding, causing his friends to start to applaud as well. Snuffles barked and howled, leaving the table to run around as his excitement got the best of him. 

Slytherin came in second, followed by Ravenclaw, then Gryffindor, the latter hadn’t had a great year in terms of gaining points. Nonetheless, that evening belonged to Hufflepuff, who were celebrating their first victory in over twenty years. 

Remus wasn’t sure about travelling home by the use of the Hogwarts Express, and it wasn’t hard to see why Remus didn’t want to ride the train back home. Thus, he arranged for himself and Black to return to their home with the use of floo powder, before asking Harry what he preferred. While the boy did want to travel back home with his friends, he also wasn’t too excited about the prospect of being stuck with everyone on a small train, added to that was the fact that Remus would still need to pick him up at King’s Cross station, thus being forced to face the prejudiced people who shunned him from their world. Harry didn’t want that for his dad, thus, he agreed to travel back home by floo powder. 

This meant that Harry said goodbye to his friends earlier than normally, but it wasn’t a very high price to pay for the comfort of his struggling parent. He said goodbye to his fellow Slytherin students, hugged Hermione and Neville, hesitated with Weasley but then ended up shaking his hand instead, leaving only Malfoy. The blonde mage had seemed nervous all morning, Harry was somewhat relieved that he had the chance to ask him what was wrong before they left by taking his friend to the side. 

“Is something wrong, Malfoy?” He asked carefully, looking up at his taller friend’s face with a look of concern. “You’re not… upset with me for not taking the train, are you?” 

“No, no, nothing like that.” His friend objected, shaking his head as he avoided Harry’s eyes. “It’s just… there is something I wish to ask… and I suppose it has made me rather nervous…” He let out a subtle chuckle, seemingly amused by his own perceived cowardice, before raising his head to look back at his friend. “I have… been wondering…” Malfoy began, licking his lips as he spoke. “Would it perhaps be possible for us to… What I mean to say is that I believe that we are good enough friends now to allow me the liberty of… of… C-can I call you Harry?” He finally blurted out what he actually wanted to ask, managing to formulate the question. 

Harry blinked at him, finding himself completely caught off guard as his friend blushed. Malfoy didn’t even have the courage to hide, instead staring at Harry with a nervous expression on his face, holding his breath with anticipation. 

“You could have called me Harry since the first day we met, had you just asked.” He grinned at his friend, trying to not laugh at how nervous he had been over something so natural. 

“R-really…?” The blonde mage mumbled. “But Black has yet to earn it and I naturally assumed…”

“You’re not like Black.” Harry assured him. “You have long since earned the right to use my name.”

“Truly?” Malfoy sighed with relief. “Then, naturally, you are allowed to use my first name as well in exchange.” He hesitated before parting his lips once more, speaking Harry’s name as if it was a soft word, one which might break if not pronounced carefully. “Harry.” 

“Draco.” Harry used the other’s name in return. It felt strange to call him by his first name, yet he was sure that he would get used to it by using it more often. 

“Harry.” The blonde mage nodded, his red face slowly turning back to its natural pale shade as a smile formed on his red lips. 

“Draco.” As if to seal a secret contract, Harry once more uttered his friend’s name. With a somewhat teasing grin on his lips, the son of a werewolf beamed at his best friend. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, we have finished our rewrite of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. As mentioned in the beginning of this project, it has been a lot of fun to write and edit. 
> 
> ♡ Thank you all for the kudos and support for all the works created thus far! ♡  
> ♡ If you have read this far and enjoyed the work, please consider leaving kudos. ♡
> 
> The both of us are respectively working on our final academic papers in literary didactics right at the moment, but will keep on working on the fourth book in between studies. It might take longer yet again to publish the fourth work, but it will happen. Mini spoiler: there will be a **lot** of changes in the fourth book.
> 
> Next installment name: Harry Lupin Potter and the Consequences of Fame.


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